


Before Us

by FunkMcLovin



Series: Before Us [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternia, Beforus, F/F, F/M, Gen, Homestuck Prologues, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Scratch (Homestuck), Trolls, Trolls (Homestuck)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 55,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkMcLovin/pseuds/FunkMcLovin
Summary: "BEFORE US," a Homestuck Prologue. Now COMPLETE! (Part 1 at least.)This exhaustive and detailed fic follows the exploits of the Dancestors getting into their game of S'grub. It also tells of their ancestors and the figures surrounding them. It's a story of what came before, of the session that started it all. I hope you enjoy this fic.Also- This is canon. According to me. ; )
Relationships: Cronus Ampora/Kankri Vantas, Meenah Peixes/Aranea Serket, Meulin Leijon/Kurloz Makara, Mituna Captor/Damara Megido, Mituna Captor/Kurloz Makara, Mituna Captor/Latula Pyrope
Series: Before Us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036473
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	1. Her Imperious Benevolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Scratch, Beforus's first guardian, gets the reader up to speed.

Good morning. Please, do pardon the clutter. I've never been much of a host.

My name is Professor Scratch, and what you see before you is a vision pre-mortem. For you see, my days are numbered. I know at least this much to be true- I know a lot of things, as a matter of fact. So many that a lesser scholar might get a big head about it. Proverbially speaking, of course.

Aha.

That was a joke.

...

My apologies.

While I do know a great many things, such as the inevitability of my demise, the various details of the world, I do not know everything. My knowledge is expansive and vast, near-omnipotent, even, but the holes in my vision are like moth-eaten pocks in a patchwork quilt, holes I've been readily mending on my own for some time. Only a few holes are left, and those are not up to me to fill, you see. The individual slated to fix these holes will be arriving shortly, as a statement of fact.

Until then, would you like to see a magic trick? Do you have a deck of cards? No?

Very well. Then perhaps I can regale you with a tale. A tale of ages past. A tale that is tangentially related to the imminent guest who will be arriving shortly. The story is about the past, but one could argue it is just as equally about the future.

The tale is about...

Her Imperious Benevolence. 

You see, I've dropped the chapter's title in the dialogue, here. Snappy, no? Aha.

...

Anyway.

Long ago, on a grey planet known to its inhabitants as Beforus, a woman ruled with an iron fist. The Empress. Little is known about this period of history, as Trolls are not concerned particularly with the wheel of the past, but suffice to say The Empress was not a pleasant woman. Her role in this story, happily, though, is only with the following line:

Her Imperious Benevolence bested The Empress in combat, securing the throne for herself.

The Benevolence, as her subjects called her, swore to be a kind queen, kinder than her predecessor, defining herself in stark contrast to the last regime. Unfortunately, the Benevolence had a somewhat stilted notion of kindness, one that was particularly condescending. Lesser bloods further down in society would be made to serve their betters, while the greater bloods cared for them like lusii.

Ah- Pardon me. You ARE familiar with lusii, yes? And the Hemospectrum? I should hope so, for to understand our tale, you'd have to understand those. Very good.

In spite of one tyranny being exchanged for another, deaths did decrease, and lesser bloods did see a happier existence under The Benevolence and her rule. Unlike her predecessor, she had a sunny disposition, her face always smiling, her gills always twitching- But those fangs showed themselves in every grin, and she made sure to adorn herself with the baubles of hard-fought conquest, on her home planet, and among the stars. She might have been sweet, but her empire still rested on the backs of her subjects, backs upon which she examined her ornaments and jewelry quite comfortably.

Still, Her bubbly personality and outwardly kind experience made her popular among the throngs of easily swayed masses, and those who disagreed with her were ambivalent. It appeared, by apathy, the new world order was in full swing.

But wanton cruelty was not the only issue that The Benevolence had to contend with. There was another more primal urge that swayed her species. For she was of the highest blood- Fuchsia, and as such, she had a deeply ingrained biological need that she and each other Fuchsia shared: The need to best her peers. To contend for the throne.

Each generation, one Fuchsia blood was born to the Mother Grub, one that The Benevolence feared. For if she were ever to engage her kin in combat, her reputation as the peaceful matriarch of her society would crumble. Her solution? Raise her would-be-heirs in solitude, then, when they came of age, have them obliterated.

This unsteady pact continued for years, until...

In the Broodcaverns, deep underground, a long-time friend and confidant of The Benevolence ran the troll reproductive process with frightening accuracy. The Grand-Matron, as she was called, an austere and elderly troll living ages far past jadebloods had any business living. Her hair was ghostly white, her chitinous skin thick and ribbed, and her shallow, orange gaze chilled the blood of her diligent jades. Among the broodcaverns, it was rumored that the Benevolence endowed The Grand-Matron with an extended lifespan in exchange for romantic deeds.

This of course, like many rumors, was true in part only. The Grand-Matron was afforded her lifespan due to her passion for the work, not romance, but The Benevolence offered The Grand-Matron her life in exchange that The Grand-Matron... Grease the wheels, so to speak. After all, whenever the Fuchsia-blood was born, it was The Matron who turned the spawn over to her queen to be executed.

After generations of this gruesome ritual, The Grand-Matron became tired. Tired of life, tired of paying for it with the lives of innocents. So one generation, quite recently, in fact, just six and a half sweeps, give or take a perigee, the Grand-Matron took the fledgling fuchsia and stole away with her. The Grand-Matron hid the wiggler away.

Did she do it out of passion for this wiggler? Did she do it simply to end her own tired life? Who's to say? But the child was safe from The Benevolence's clutches.

Predictably, the Grand-Matron was killed the same day in a rare fit of rage for the Benevolence. Teams scoured the globe to search for the heiress, but all came up short- After all, the Grand-Matron didn't hide the progeny on the globe at all!

And, for those of you somewhat familiar with this story, you may be unsurprised to realize that the wiggler hidden away those scant few sweeps ago grew up to be-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

yo scratch u there?? fuckin open up or ill break ya locks

Ah. Please excuse me, dear reader. My guest has arrived.


	2. Miss Piexes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meenah wants answers.

I suppose it is time to transition into a different form of dialogue. Not to worry, I have just the thing.

SCRATCH: Hello, Miss Piexes. I trust my locks were not difficult to shatter, as per usual?

MEENAH: nbd

SCRATCH: Wonderful. Have a seat. I've been expecting you. Even though I already know the answer, I'll ask out of politeness. What brings you here?

MEENAH: just layin low ig

MEENAH: the beach has been on my ass lately abt the whole succession ceremony

SCRATCH: Ah, yes. Her Imperious Benevolence's insistence you take over the mantle of Empress peacefully. Once she discovered you residing on Beforus's pink moon, she forced you to agree not to do battle with her in exchange for the crown once you came of age.

MEENAH: ...

SCRATCH: What is it, dear?

MEENAH: why you talkin like a college paper

SCRATCH: Oh! Expositional purposes.

MEENAH: jegus h fishsticks

MEENAH: i only need one nosy gill who talks too much in my life thanks

MEENAH: you... ARE a gill right? i always assumed

SCRATCH: Absolutely. I am like a kindly aunt.

MEENAH: wtf is an aunt

SCRATCH: Never you mind, dear. More pertinently, why are you suddenly so reluctant to take the crown? When you were younger, you seemed so excited to take over.

MEENAH: cuz back then i was a dumb fuck wiggler

MEENAH: sure u ask a gill whos grubscars havent even healed if she wants 2 be queen and she says yeah but now that im older... idk

MEENAH: its a shell of a lotta work?

MEENAH: like bein in charge

SCRATCH: Too true. Though, as I've told you, you won't have to worry about that particular agreement.

MEENAH: yyyeah thats why im kinda here rn

MEENAH: u said a long ass time ago you knew how to get me outta here

MEENAH: off beforus. away from her imperious dumbnevolence

SCRATCH: Indeed I do.

If I were not the First Guardian, I expect my heart would be thudding now. The greatest lapse in my near-infinite knowledge is one that only she can help me repair. Meenah sits and I serve her a cup of tea. She discards this, thinking I do not notice, but I do, and furthermore I do not mind in the least. It is terrible tea. As I said, my hosting skills are not up to snuff.

MEENAH: uh

MEENAH: scratch bb youre zonin out again

SCRATCH: Ah! I am, too true, young miss Piexes.

MEENAH: u were gonna tell me how to clam-scray from this planet

SCRATCH: Indeed. The process is quite simple, as a matter of fact. All you have to do... Is play a game.

MEENAH: sounds lame but w/e

SCRATCH: This game is unlike any game you've ever played before. Truthfully, I don't actually know much about it. In my near-infinite knowledge, it is one of the many gaps. I do not know the nature of this game, but I do know three things about it.

MEENAH: ok. should i ask what they are or-

SCRATCH: Thing one, and most vital to you: It will facilitate your escape from this world. This entire universe, even.

MEENAH: sick

SCRATCH: Thing two, it is a game that will reveal your true destiny. You will forge a new universe and a new life for yourself. Perhaps for all of trollkind!

MEENAH: less cool but w/e

SCRATCH: Thing three, it is a game fated to be played with twelve co-players.

MEENAH: augh fuck thats the LEAST cool thing yet

MEENAH: i gotta drag a dozen ppl with me on this shindig

MEENAH: lame

Meenah slouches in her seat, but she can't fool me. She's as excited as can be. Her braids cascade onto the floor, making looping designs upon it, which she regards thoughtfully.

The Game. The Game, the single biggest gap in my knowledge, yet something I feel so inexplicably linked to. I have often surmised that my entire purpose on this world is to begin this mysterious game. What I told Meenah, however, is something of a white lie, as it were. I know more than three things about the game. What I told her was not inaccurate, but omits the breadth of what I've learned about The Game in my millennia as Beforus's Guardian.

The most important thing, and the thing I dare not let on to Meenah, is that I cannot tell what lies past The Game's beginning. The future is clear to me, but beyond the beginning of the game is dark. I have yet to understand why. I won't lie, the thought fills me with trepidation.

SCRATCH: I trust you at least have some idea who these twelve players are, at least?

MEENAH: yyyeah thats whats bummin me out the most tbh

I walk to a drawer and withdraw twelve discs. The discs were made for me. A commission, shall we say, of two of Meenah's friends. I don't tell her this quite yet. She will find out in due time.

SCRATCH: This is the game in question. I would strongly advise against playing them now. It will be about a sweep before you will have need to actually play the game, by my estimate. You shouldn't start until you have amassed your twelve players.

MEENAH: cool beans

MEENAH: so what i gotta recruit em one by one

SCRATCH: I predict that is precisely what you will do.

SCRATCH: And by "predict" I of course mean "know with certainty."

SCRATCH: ...

SCRATCH: That was a little joke.

MEENAH: ...

SCRATCH: Ahem. Anyway.

SCRATCH: Once you have amassed your team, give each person a disc and enter the game. It should all be self-explanatory from there.

Another white lie. It will certainly not be self-explanatory, but Meenah need not know that for now. I do feel bad misleading her, but it is all to her benefit.

MEENAH: at least i know who to ask for kelp first

MEENAH: even tho were not uh. on speakin terms rn

SCRATCH: Miss Serket, I presume?

MEENAH: ya

MEENAH: she thinks im shirkin my noble responsibility or what ebber

SCRATCH: Ah. Well, she isn't wrong. It's just that such things will soon be irrelevant.

MEENAH: lmao sea u get it

MEENAH: anywave um

Miss Piexes pauses, looking furtively at me. She means to tell me she appreciates my "kelp." She doesn't muster the fortitude, and instead abruptly stands, swiping the CDs from me. I smile. I know what she means without her saying so. She knows this, and while it frustrates the heiress, she is brought relief by it.

MEENAH: bye

She utters that syllable and makes for the door, back outside into my garden.

Alternia looms in the sky above us as I follow her into my yard. The verdant Pink Moon of Alternia has long been my home, since time immemorial, and before Meenah arrived, I was alone. Not lonely, mind you, just alone. And while I knew Meenah would some day come in the arms of the Grand-Matron, and that she would call me her lusus, experiencing it was nothing short of unique.

If I had tear-ducts I might cry as I watch her depart in her little pink spaceship. But I don't, so I can't.

Meenah doesn't know what a daughter is, but she knows I love her like one.

Now, unfortunately, I don't actually feature heavily in the story past this point, I only serve as this tale's humble narrator. Perhaps I'll slip into something more comfortable as we transition into this tale's true protagonist....

Here we go.

Meenah arrives back home without incident. The trip takes about an hour of uneventful time, time she spends dreading what's to come.

===

Your name is MEENAH PIEXES. You are the HEIRESS APPARENT to an entire planet of trolls. You were raised on THE MOON by a KINDLY ANTHROPOMORPHIC PUPPET WOMAN, and you owe her everything, not that you'd ever tell her that. Presently, your LAISSEZ FAIRE attitude is on hold temporarily, replaced by SEETHING DREAD, for two reasons. One is the IMMINENT MEETING with the other mother-figure in your life, the one who isn't a puppet, and the other reason is having to face your EX, who you JUST KIND OF BROKE UP WITH. You have a penchant for speakin with an aquatic dispo-fish-in and your online handle is cruelCondescension.

What will you do?

Examine Room. ==>

You examine your room. As a fuchsiablood, you were afforded the best, most lavish accommodations. Tapestries adorn your walls, with your grinning visage staring right back. You give one of your Meenah-posters a wink. It doesn't wink back, but you think if it could it totally would. As far as you're concerned, you deserve each and every one! You love the loot that comes with being a queen-to-be, but not so much the responsibility. If only you could have one without the other...

Examine Desk. ==>

Your desk! Your lab. Your precious space in which to concoct all manner of nefarious potion! Like THIS little number you've been working on. A pink can sits on the table, one of your proudest creations: The Thirst Abolishing Beverage, or as you like to refer to it, TAB. This little number works miracles, you swear. You pull on the pull tab and hear the satisfying hiss of carbonation as you tip it into your eager gullet.

Mmm. TAB is fucking delicious. You don't know why your shitty friends all drink Faygo.

Message your Ex ==>

Uh. How about no? You JUST got back from visiting your aunt, you don't need that kind of strife right now. Unfortunately, it seems strife is eager to seek YOU out instead, as from downstairs there is a booming knock on your door.

Be very quiet and hope they leave. ==>

You accomplish the first task, but they do not leave. You groan. You know exactly who that is. It's HER. Her Imperious Benevolence, making a house call because you haven't picked up your clam-phone in weeks. Another round of knocks. Looks like they're not leaving.

Scamper down the stairs and answer the door. ==>

After descending the staircase past the 10:1 sized solid gold statue of yourself, you open the door into your cavernous foyer. Sure enough- It's HER. Flanked on either side by two drones, she waltzes into your palace like it belongs to her!

Technically speaking, though, it DOES belong to her, being the old palace after all.

FEFERI: Meena)(! Oh my GOS)(, look at you! You look so cute I could just-! )(a)(a!

The Benevolence squeezes your cheek cloyingly. You wince and sho her off, the familiar bloodlust rising in your chest. You can see on her face that it's just as potent, and you think it's a little sick how she disguises her impulses for the public. The drones are no doubt there to keep things from escalating.

FEFERI: You didn't answer my calls so I decided to stop by to make sure you're still on for next week's fitting. After all! The coronation is. Soon.

MEENAH: whatebber

The smile on Feferi's face falters.

FEFERI: Look. I don't want this any more than you do, little guppy. You think I want to give my seat of power over to some s)(itty little upstart like you?

The Empress huffs. You scowl up at her.

FEFERI: If Kanny had given you to me, it would have all been so PAINL-ESS. You'd be dead by now and I wouldn't have to worry!

MEENAH: well i aint

MEENAH: and if you want your damn throne so bad just keep it

MEENAH: idc any more

The Empress strikes her trident into the ground. You flinch. You hate to admit it, but she'd kick your ass in a fight. She's about double your height, double your width, and the trident she's holding is nearly as tall as you are. 

FEFERI: As muc)( as I'd love to, it's far too late for that. T)(e people )(ave spoken. T)(ey want to see power turned over peacefully. And. I AM their. Loyal servant!

The Empress speaks the last two words through gritted teeth. Looks like neither of you like the situation.

FEFERI: The coronation is in one perigee. You )(ave that long to prepare yourself.

MEENAH: uhhhhh

MEENAH: no chance you could extend the deadline to say

MEENAH: a sweep?

FEFERI: NO.

With that, Feferi stomps away. Looks like you're off the hook for the fitting, at least. As the door shuts behind her, your heart stops thudding so quickly. Her presence alone makes your blood boil.

Now will you talk to your ex? ==>

What do you look like?? A girl who CONFRONTS her problems? Fat chance, bub. No way, you'll just take a quick nap, stop thinking about Her Imperious Butthole and...

Oh, fine! You're not going to be able to rest until it's over, anyway. You rub your temples as you trudge back up the stairs, wishing you looked half as cheerful as your two-story tall gold effigy.

\---cruelCondescension has begun trolling arcaneGnowledge\---

CC: yo

AG: _Seen by arcaneGnowledge._

CC: cmon dont leave me on read

CC: and dont fuckin passive aggressively type "seen by"

AG: My apologies. Aranea cannot answer the phone right now, due to intense heart8reak and betrayal. Please leave a message after the sob.

CC: uuuuuuuugh

CC: youre such a drama queen

CC: look i even put 8 "u"s

AG: What do you want, Meenah?

CC: do u want to play a game

AG: I think you've played plenty of games recently! What makes you think I'd want to do anything with you?

CC: look um

CC: let me back up ok?

You rub your temples. You're going to have to really lay it on thick, here.

CC: im

God. You can't do it! You can't bring yourself to say it!!

CC: im sorry

That felt awful. Aranea is presumably dumbfounded, so it takes her a moment to reply.

AG: You are?

AG: Pardon my lackluster response, 8ut. Meenah, I don't think I've ever heard you say that.

CC: yeah well dont go spreadin it around

CC: i was wrong

AG: Wow.

AG: Wow! If it were anyone else I'd question your authenticity, but I can't imagine you saying that unless you really meant it.

AG: Have you come over to my way of thinking, then?

AG: You would make a wonderful empress, Meenah, I truly 8elieve that. 

You groan. You've got nothing against lying. In fact, you've got nothing against lying to your friends! But lying to APOLOGIZE to someone? It feels pretty shitty.

CC: yeah

CC: im 100% empress material

AG: Oh!!!!!!!!

AG: Meenah! I'm so happy! I never in a millennium thought you'd come around 8ut-

AG: Does this mean you... That we...

CC: idk what it means for us aranea just

CC: im kinda siftin thru a buncha shit rn

CC: im sorry i yelled at you this mornin

AG: It's okay, Meenah. I know it can't 8e easy...

CC: just

CC: promise me youll play this game with me

CC: one last game before i become empress

It appears that you get your skills with persuasion from your beloved auntie.

AG: Meenah... I promise. It's the least I can do.

CC: and um

CC: thanks

You hate how heartfelt this still is. Ex or not, Aranea has always been there for you. You really care about her, in a way that you don't feel confident enough to sort through at the moment. You wish there was a word for that.

AG: I do understand, though, Meenah.

AG: Why it can't work 8etween us...

AG: I mean. I would do anything to m8ke it work, you know, Meenah?

Aw, fuck. Aranea's fishing for comfort. Abort mission.

CC: so anywave this game

CC: it kinda needs 12 ppl

CC: do you know anyone whod wanna play as well

AG: I think I do!

AG: Is that what you'd like me to do for you, Meenah?

You cringe. You honest-to-god cringe. Aranea's got it bad, and while you DO appreciate her friendship, it makes you kind of sick when she's this sycophantic.

CC: sure ig

AG: I'll prove myself to you, Meenah! You'll see!!

\---arcaneGnowledge ceased trolling cruelCondescension\---

You sigh. That was fucking terrible. You turn of the computer and decide to take that nap after all.

You disrobe and slip into your expansive recupacoon lazily, shutting your eyes with a groan. It was terrible, but it was also the first step.

The first step to escape all of your problems.


	3. Araneaquest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aranea does some canvassing.

Your name is ARANEA SERKET. You have a variety of interests, many of which you OVERSHARE RELENTLESSLY. You are something of a TALKER. You are also a POWERFUL EMPATH and you can OSTENSIBLY READ MINDS. Not that you want to, however. Knowing what others are thinking of you at all times is somewhat exhausting. You can also use POTENT MIND CONTROL, but generally speaking you choose not to. Arresting people's free will just doesn't appeal to you. You doubt it ever will.

Normally, you have a CHEERY DISPOSITION, but you've just been MERCILESSLY DUMPED by the LOVE OF YOUR LIFE. As an empath, you know it was a long time coming, but you're still very sad. You refuse to give up!

Your typing style is Somewhat 8om8astic and over-ver8ose, and your screen name is arcaneGnowledge.

What will you do?

Examine Room ==>

You examine your bedroom. As a blueblood on beforus, you have basically lucked out. You're not high enough to have any responsibilities, but you're not low enough to be culled. You currently have a roommate, and he's around here somewhere, but you haven't seen him in a few days. He has a knack for only appearing when inconvenient.

Your respiteblock is adorned very neatly. As roommates go, you are one of the best, you think. In the corner is a large terrarium, in which your lusus resides. Your computer desk is currently neat and tidy, but your recupacoon has a nasty trail of sopor slime oozing from it. You didn't feel like making your bed this morning, after all, what with all the heart8reak!

Examine Lusus ==>

Ah! Your precious mother. You crouch down to examine her. There she is, spinning her web like always, happily subsisting off the troll blood you drip inside her tank. She is a little white spider, about the size of your hand, and caring for her is no small chore! Requisitioning troll blood is a pain, in spite of its many versatile uses. You uncork a vial of blood and tap out a drop or three into her web. She gratefully skitters towards the morsel and slurps them up posthaste.

You adjust the lamps above her tank keeping her warm and sigh to yourself.

Yes indeed, there's no one with a spider-lusus that has it as tough as you!

Mope around on the floor like a depressed ragdoll. ==>

You'd love to, really, but you've done enough of that already! It's high time to get up and DO something. At the same time... You're not sure you want to venture outside. Your roommate could be lurking nearby. He's the only one that's possibly more verbose than you are! Not even you like to listen to his diatribes...

You hesitantly grasp the door handle to your room, looking furtively left and right. Coast is clear. Maybe you can make some breakfast before-

Bump into your roommate. ==>

Oof! You bump headlong into your roommate, who turns slowly to face you.

KANKRI: Ah, Aranea. I was h9ping t9 run int9 y9u. Perhaps n9t quite in such a literal fashi9n. I w9uld like t9 6elieve that this was an unintenti9nal dru66ing.

You cringe. THIS guy. Like you said. He only shows up when you couldn't stand to be around him.

ARANEA: I was just going to wrangle up some 8reakfast, Kankri! No need to-

KANKRI: I need t9 discuss s9mething with y9u, Aranea.

Kankri interrupts, and, on reflex, you close your mouth. It's best not to prolong his speech with interruptions.

KANKRI: When I last used the a6luti9n cl9set we share, I c9uldn't help 6ut n9tice that my 9ral skelet9n scru66er was m9ved fr9m the 9ral skelet9n scru66er cup. I d9n't want t9 level any undue accusati9ns, 9f c9urse, 6ut seeing as y9u're the 9nly 9ther denizen 9f this hiveh9ld, I'm f9rced t9 6elieve that y9u m9ved it f9r s9me reas9n.

ARANEA: You mean... Your tooth8rush?

Oh god, you shouldn't have interrupted. Kankri bristles immediately.

KANKRI: N9t 9nly have y9u laid hands 9n 9ne 9f the devices I asked y9u t9 keep sanitary, n9w y9u're using y9ur high6l99d vernacular at me? I'm n9t sure y9u even realize this, Aranea, 6ut what y9u've just c9mmitted is referred t9 in pr9gressive circles as a "mini-aggressi9n."

ARANEA: Kankri, please. I wasn't-

It's too late. Great job, Aranea! You've made a lecture into a full-on tirade!

KANKRI: While I appreciate that "t99th6rush" is pr96a6ly the termin9l9gy y9u're familiar with, c9rrecting me like y9u've just d9ne c9nstitutes what might seem like an inn9cu9us rephrasing, 6ut is in reality a mini-aggressi9n. The differences 6etween 9ur castes sh9uld 6e cele6rated, n9t hammered 9ut, Aranea. I w9uld have th9ught y9u underst99d.

You weren't correcting him, though! You bristle, knowing that if you protest you'd just get another earful.

ARANEA: I'm sorry, Kankri.

That's all you can muster. It seems to pacify him, though. You try to subtly edge past, but he's not through with you yet!

KANKRI: Thank y9u, Aranea. Admitting when y9u are wr9ng is the first step 9n the l9ng j9urney t9 hem9-egalitarianism. That still, h9wever leaves the issue 9f my 9ral skelet9n scru66er.

ARANEA: The cup you were using was dirty! All I did was move it into a clean one.

Kankri pauses, then chuckles. It's a condescending chuckle, and it makes your blood boil a little bit.

KANKRI: S9 y9u decide when the cup my "t99th6rush" is in is dirty, n9w? Just 6ecause I've 6een culled and f9rced t9 live with y9u? The little mutant6l99d can't 6e trusted with the simple act 9f cleaning his 9wn "t99th6rush" cup? I supp9se y9u'd like t9 fix a c9llar t9 my neck and feed me manually, next. My ap9l9gies, 9 Great High6l99d, f9r having a dirty "t99th6rush" cup.

This is more sass than usual. Something has put him in a pissy mood. Unfortunately, you're not the one to puzzle that particular one out. In fact, that particular mystery will have to wait a good few chapters.

ARANEA: I'm sorry, Kankri. I won't move your t- I won't move your oral skeleton scru88er nor its cup again.

KANKRI: If y9u hadn't in the first place I w9uldn't need t9 have this discussi9n. Please 6e m9re mindful.

You grimace. Kankri wanders away into his room.

Make some breakfast. ==>

Having a roommate sucks. Kankri was culled and placed in your care last sweep, and since then, he's been a headache. Technically, you're in charge of him, as a blue blood, you do have to occasionally take on the more self-sufficient culled trolls, but in reality, he's just stuck with you, by imperial mandate. He might be annoying, but truthfully, you do agree on a lot.

For starters, neither of you are fans of the Empress. You can't wait to see Meenah ascend to the throne.

...If she ever bothers to.

Great. Now you're sad again! The sandwich you were spreading grubsauce on is now a sad-wich. You take a forlorn bite.

Return to your respiteblock and mope. ==>

No escaping it, now. You return to your room and-

PING! ==>

No... It can't be! You rush to your computer and- It is! Meenah is messaging you! You're so elated you could scream with delight. Could she be apologizing for the grave error of dumping you? No- No. Play it cool, Serket. Play it cool...

[The Conversation from Chapter 2 comes to fruition.]

Squeal giddily. ==>

You make a girlish squeak, pumping your fists in the air. Your hopes are officially up! What's best, is since you're not able to see Meenah, you can't use your empath abilities to see her emotions, which means you can ignore the plain fact that she's just not that into you! Nice. Being a Serket rules.

But still, no time to rest on those hopeful laurels! You have a job to do. Recruit players for Meenah's game.

A question strikes you, one you probably should have asked to begin with- You have no idea what kind of game it is, or when it will be played. Best file that away to ask Meenah later on...

You rub your chin, mentally tallying your acquaintances. Who's someone who would be eager to play a game without having any idea for context? Kankri? Ha! You gag. You'd sooner pat a clown than play a game with him! Meenah? Wait, no, she's the one who asked to begin with...

Wait! You've got it. You know JUST the person. And it might give you an advantage on the Meenah front.

Message your most eager friend. ==>

\--- arcaneGnowledge started trolling adorableCalico \---

AG: *The prideful marquise saunters into view, holding her scepter no8ly in hand! She raps politely on the purr8east maiden's door.*

AG: Hello? Miss Leijon?

AC: (=^ェ^=) < *the nice purrbeast opens her door and says hello!*

AC: (=^ェ^=) < hello!!! aranea! long time no talk.

AG: It's 8een too long, truly, Meulin. I miss our long-form RPs.

AC: ( =>ω<=) < me too!! but i know you're busy with kranky! hee hee.

AC: (=^-.-^=) < don't tell him i said that.

AG: Not a pro8lem. I'm not in the mood for another lecture. I actually come to you for different reasons, Meulin.

AC: (^･o･^)ﾉ" < nnnnope!

AG: Wait, what? You haven't even heard what I mean.

AC: (๑꒡ᆽ꒡๑) < look, aranea. i heard all about the breakup! i know i'm good at relationship stuff but i'm not a breakup counselor. you're going to have to do this one on your own.

AG: We haven't "8roken up." Meenah wished to take a 8r8k and I respect her decision. I'm here for something unrel8d!

AC: ( =｀ω´= ) < i am skeptical but intrigued!

AG: Well... May8e I shouldn't. After all, this might 8e more up Latula's alley...

AC: ( ≧☉_☉≦ ) < NOOOOOOOOOOO! you can't just dangle a juicy mouse in front of me then yank it away! that's no fair, aranea!! tell meeeeee!

AG: Would you like to play a game?

AC: (=^ェ^=) < oh that's all? of course aranea! just let me know where and when. i love video games. i don't see many people out here in the boonies...

AG: Wonderful! Truth 8e told, I expected as much. Thank you for your help.

AC: (=^ェ^=) < of course! i mean just as long as HE can play, too!!!

AG: Ah. You mean. Him. Kurloz.

AC: (=^ェ^=) < yep! we're a package deal after all. 

AG: Aha. Well. Yes, I suppose two players are 8etter than just one! I'm sure I'll... Hardly notice him.

AC: (=•́ܫ•̀=) < i've just got to ask him first! but i bet he'll say yes. he's already been talking about wanting to play games.

AG: Really? From anyone else that would 8e innocuous, 8ut from him, it's a little worrisome. Has he seen some portent in his... Faygo-visions?

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < aranea, you're not besmirching the good word, are you?

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < kurloz's visions are 100% correct!

AC: =✪ ᆺ ✪= < and 100% miraculous!

AG: Right. Well. I'll just RSVP you for a tentative "yes," then. Get 8ack to me once you've asked Kurloz.

AC: (=^ェ^=) < purrfect!!!!!!

\--- arcaneGnowledge ceased trolling adorableCalico \---

Well that was a mixed bag. You're a little miffed that you didn't get to ask any relationship questions. Stupid cagey romance guru! No matter, there would be plenty of time to ask about that later. For now, you decide to focus on the success. Four of the twelve slots are now full! Time to report back to Meenah.

\--- arcaneGnowledge started trolling cruelCondescension \---

AG: You'll 8e pleased to know I've secured two players for our little game, Meenah!

CC: dam that was quick serk

CC: nice job

AG: All in a day's work! I'm sure I'll 8e a8le to secure some more. When I know a8out the game we're all to 8e playing.

CC: yeah u left before i could impart that particular knowledge to u lmao

CC: its uh

CC: actually i dont even know i gotta ask auntie

AG: What's "auntie?"

CC: fuck if i know

AG: So does this mean... I've helped?

CC: um yeah shore

AG: I told you I wouldn't let you down, Meenah! I swear to you I'll offer you all the help I can muster. 

CC: ok

CC: whod u get anyway

CC: i was thinkin helmet boy n radgirl since theyre like gamers already

AG: I got Meulin and Kurloz.

CC: ...

CC: fuck

CC: serk come the fuck on THEM??? meu is a fuckin forest hermit and kurly q is a batshit acolyte mime

CC: theyre not GAMERS

AG: Oh.

CC: fffuuuuuuucccckkkkkin a

CC: im tryin to stack this game w skilled players not bozo clowns and jungle wackos

AG: Not to worry, Meenah, my dear! I will secure more gainful mem8ers to our party. That was just my opening salvo. I'll identify some 8igger, 8etter players. I promise!

CC: ugh

CC: ok but let me talk to tules and tuna

AG: You got it!

CC: and um

CC: dont call me dear

\--- cruelCondescension has ceased trolling arcaneGnowledge \---

Be Meenah. ==>

You fail to be Meenah. Meenah is trying to take a nap right now! How insensitive.

Be Kankri. ==>

You are now Kankri, and you just saw your roommate's entire conversation from the doorway to her room. Your rage suddenly burns at being left out of something. Honestly! The nerve! Aranea didn't even THINK to ask you to join this "game." Well you're sure you'll be able to get in anyway. You cross your arms and sulk away to scheme.

Be the pink moon puppet lady. ==>

Oh! Haha. No need for that. I'm here of my own volition. We can drop the second-person narrative pretense.

It's lovely to see you again. I thought I'd interject with a little bit more information. Context for the readers. As I've said before, I am defined by the gaps in my knowledge, the holes punched in the very fabric of my omnipotence. One of the more prominent holes takes not the form of a mysterious game, but of an individual.

The person in question and the game are, in fact, the only two holes remaining in my omnipotence, and I know that this game will be played by this individual of legend. Before Meenah enters the game with her associates, I wish to find out about this mystery man.

From my research, I've discovered very little. He is shrouded in abject mystery, his deeds blind to me, his life a blank, unlike the lives of all of the other Beforans. All I've managed to glean is a name...

"He Who Stalks with the Musclebeasts."

I am sure the narrative that follows will come to turn on the axis of this penultimate mystery, and, for the sake of exposition, I will explain that this mythical figure, this locus of change is why I, for the first time in my long life, will be descending from my moon onto the planet far below. I will be trying to find this mysterious man.

Why am I telling you this?

Oh. Well. I just thought you might want to be appraised of my comings and goings. Or not. If not, it's fine. I won't be offended.

Really. It's no big deal. I was just kind of excited and wanted to share it with someone. But it's absolutely fine. I just suppose I thought we were closer than we were! No pressure. My bad.

Ahem.

Anyway, yes, that's why I'll be on Beforus next time. That's all. I was going to have a whole section about how I got from the moon down to the planet and back. It's actually quite interesting, but. I'll save it. You've probably got better things to do than hear an old lady yammer on! Aha.

Be Meenah. ==>

You decide to be Meenah, but like. Later on. After her nap. Don't want to be rude, after all!

Consider developments. ==>

You figure it's time to draw a line in the sand. If Aranea is only going to recruit lame-os to your game, maybe you can still salvage the situation. Maybe some kind of... Team system. On YOUR team can be all the competent, cool players, and on HER team, all the dorks and idiots. Yeah. You nod to yourself. That seems fair. Plus it gives you an excuse to distance yourself from Aranea.

You hate to do that to your homegirl, but jegus, she's clingy!

You consider who next to recruit. Like you told Aranea, Tuna and Radgirl are all yours. That leaves... Six randos up for grabs. Three for Aranea, three for you. Better choose wisely, and hope that you don't have to resort to asking anyone ridiculous. Like Mister "He Who Stalks with the Musclebeasts." Ha! That would be a night mare.


	4. Kranki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kankri, unhappy with his exclusion, decides to do some recruitment of his own.

Your name is KANKRI VANTAS. You are a staunch advocate for LOWBLOOD RIGHTS, MASCULINISM, HEMO-EGALITARIANISM, and REPARATIONS, among other things. At a young age, you were culled for your MUTANT BLOOD, and now you're forced to live with your CUSTODIAN/ROOMMATE along with your lusus. He has an incredible hunger, which can only be sated by INDUSTRIAL-SIZED BAGS OF ALGAE. He's probably getting pretty hungry, so you should feed him soon.

You have recently uncovered a PLOT by your roommate, which you wholeheartedly intend to meddle with. You don't like being EXCLUDED, and in fact, the idea scares you very deeply, not that you'd ever admit it. Navel-gazing aside, it's high time you start doing what you do best: NETWORKING, SOCIALLY. Your typing style Tends t9 6e 69th calm and serene, if a 6it 9ver-ver69se and unacc9m9dating, and your online handle is cardioGalitarianism.

What will you do?

Kankri, Examine room. ==>

You examine your room. It's a nice room, a repurposed guest bedroom. You measured the exact square-footage and it is in fact completely equal in floorspace to your roommate's room. You are very careful to make sure everything is equal.

On your wall are several posters, all of revolutionary leaders from history, such as CKAARL MARXXX, his immense facial hair bushily gazing down at you. You press a hand longingly to the poster, your eyes growing hazy as you imagine running your hands through that supple beard...

You look away, snapping out of it.

Next to your recupacoon is your DESK, which is kept pretty cluttered, covered in pages from your tortured manuscript to your MANIFESTO that you've never gotten around to finishing. Behind that is your computer, which you haven't touched for years. Why use the computer when Chittr can be accessed from your phone?

Rope some friends into your scheme. ==>

There will be plenty of time for that in due time. For now, your aforementioned custodian needs his breakfast. On your way to the scuttlebuggy shed where the algae is kept, sure enough, you hear his howls from the back-lawnring. You roll your eyes. Even though you do, you love your lusus deeply. In fact, your crabby father is possibly the only person in the world you can speak honestly to, perhaps because he can't speak back.

You lug a 30-pound bag of Large Aquatic Lusus Algae Feed out into the back-lawnring, huffing as you set it down. Predictably, in mere moments he is bounding towards you, and before indulging in his meal, he tackles you to the ground playfully.

He is nearly twice your size, standing almost ten feet tall, his spindly arms supporting his big, meaty claws which wrap around you in a hug.

KANKRI: Haha! 9kay, 9kay, calm d9wn. It's g99d t9 see y9u, t99.

Your lusus gets off of you and begins his feast, tearing the packaging from his meal, using his feisty mandibles to chomp and chew. Heartbreak strikes you, suddenly.

KANKRI: I g9t y9ur fav9rite.

You speak quietly. Crabdad pauses, blinking at you with his glassy compound eyes. You reach forth to pat his face. He seems to understand, nuzzling your hand, lovingly. He coughs, and you recoil, candy-red blood spewing onto your hand. You flinch, and you feel yourself tearing up as he coughs again.

KANKRI: D9n't w9rry. It's... It's 9kay.

You're not sure if he knows what's happening to him, but he's smart. You figure he knows just as well as you do.

KANKRI: The 6ay9netterinarian said y9u'll 6e 9kay. D9n't w9rry.

You look at his blood on your hands. You both know in this case "okay" doesn't mean "live a long and happy life for years to come," but you both still know it to be true. You try to smile, but it's sad. You hug your crab-dad, grateful you still have the opportunity.

Go inside. ==>

You head inside. Aranea is there, waiting, and she sees your hand, alarmed.

ARANEA: Did that monster scratch you again?

KANKRI: Yes, 6ut it was my 9wn fault. I g9t in the way when he was feasting. It's 9nly t9 6e expected.

ARANEA: Ugh. I don't know how you toler8 him. I couldn't imagine having a lusus that size.

Your fist clenches. Aranea raises her eyebrows. You know it's off-brand, but you silently push past her inside.

KANKRI: Just d9n't 69ther him.

Rope some friends into your scheme. ==>

That's a good idea. Something to get your mind off things. You flop down on the communal living room's sofa- Oops. The lesser respite slab. Can't be caught using the frilly vernacular of the highbloods.

You check to see who's online that you could fleece for participation in this game. But first... You decide to get some information from Meenah.

\--- cardioGalitarian began trolling cruelCondescension \---

CG: G99d evening, Meenah. It has c9me t9 my attenti9n that y9u and Aranea have made c9ntact c9ncerning a game. I w9uld feign surprise that I have n9t 6een included, 6ut the truth 9f the matter is, I've c9me t9 expect this fr9m y9ur h9ity-t9ity high6l99d types. 6e that as it may, I w9uld like t9 play this game with y9u 69th.

CC: pass

CG: I understand y9u need twelve players.

CC: yeah but like

CC: im not that desperate lol

CG: Just as I suspected. Pre-emptively excluding me 6ecause 9f my 6l99d caste. I th9ught 6etter 9f y9u, Meenah, as future ruler 9f 9ur planet.

CC: you think i give a shit aboat blood

CC: dude were excluding you cause you suck at games and youre a huge bummer

CG: If envisi9ning a 6etter w9rld than 9ne t9iling under Her Imperi9us 6enev9lence is a "6ummer," I think y9u need t9 keep 6etter c9mpany. I insist 9n my inclusi9n in this game 9f y9urs.

CC: hmmmmm

CC: nah

\--- cruelCondescension blocked cardioGalitarian \---

Blast. You haughtily shift in your seat. Aranea peeks her head around the corner.

ARANEA: Kankri, do you have a moment?

KANKRI: N9t n9w, Aranea. I'm n9t in the m99d t9 hear y9ur excuses. Leave me in peace, I'm c9nducting vital c9mmunique.

ARANEA: This isn't a8out the tooth8rush! I-

KANKRI: Privacy!

Aranea scoffs, but she leaves you be. No doubt she wanted to weasel out of responsibility for moving your precious oral bone scuffer. The nerve! You scour your friends list for other friends to ask about the game. If Meenah is looking for players, perhaps she'll be more charitable if you bring her other willing participants. Hm... Not many people are online, except- Oh! Perfect.

\--- cardioGalitarian began trolling capaciousTool \---

CG: H9russ. D9 y9u have a m9ment? I have a s9mewhat pressing matter I need t9 discuss with y9u.

CT: 8=D < A thousand pardons, kind Kankri, but my status as "online" was made erroneously. Of horse, if it is truly important, for you I can make time.

CG: It w9uld 6e rude t9 interrupt. All the same, I will say my piece in the h9pes that y9u are a6le t9 resp9nd in a timely fashi9n. The urgent matter is thus: There is a pl9t, a pl9t t9 undermine the very fa6ric 9f the delicate s9cial 9rder I have w9rked t9 maintain. The pl9t inv9lves the playing 9f a mysteri9us game.

CT: 8=D < The game! Oh, of horse! I herd about the game from the very visitor who is gracing my presence as we speak.

CT: 8=D < I would be elated to play this game with you, Kankri.

CG: Wh9 is this visit9r? And. D9 they kn9w anything m9re a69ut the game? I'm a 6it in the dark 9n it, myself.

CT: 8=D < You are such a card, fair Kankri. Nearly as much a card as my sweet matesprit! But suffice to say this game is important. I think. My dear visitor tal% a lot and, well, haha, my sweat valves are a bit clogged at the moment, so I am only able to pick up the gist of what she is saying.

CG: Wh9 is the visit9r? Can she play this game, t99? The m9re the merrier.

CT: 8=D < I will equine.

CT: 8=D < I mean, enquire.

CT: 8=D < Sadly, she says neigh. I e%pected as much. Be that as it neigh, you have one player. I understand there will be a duo of teams on this venture- Neigh tell, are you familiar with which team we will take part in?

CG: That's a g99d idea, actually. Teams w9uld inspire healthy c9mpetiti9n.

CG: Als9, y9u used "neigh" three times as a pun, there. Is that all9wed?

CT: 8=D < I believe so. I will consult the Equine Tome of Quir% later on.

CG: If it were any9ne 6ut y9u, I w9uld think y9u were j9king.

CT: 8=D < My apologies, Kankri. I should get back to my associate visitor! And find a place to empty my sweat valves...

\--- capaciousTool stopped trolling cardioGalitarian \---

Well, that's one player down. And the promise of a team! Wonderful. When Meenah sees you've assembled a full TEAM, she'll HAVE to let you play! Aranea peeks in again.

ARANEA: Are you ready yet? What I need to discuss is urgent.

You bristle, rolling your eyes. You stand up and march past her, haughtily.

KANKRI: I supp9se there are myriad reas9ns f9r y9u t9 6e under the impressi9n that y9u can simply c9mmandeer my time, Aranea, 6ut I am 9n imp9rtant 6usiness.

You traipse to your room and shut the door meaningfully. Back to the matter at hand! You need more co-players. Horuss is a catch, but still... A little on the lackluster side. On top of that, you don't know what the game even is? You need another teammate who won't ask questions about it and might just join you on the promise of hanging out with other people. Someone truly desperate. Someone-

Oh no.

\--- cardioGalitarian began trolling casanovasAdonis \---

CG: I can't 6elieve I'm g9ing 9n a lim6 t9 ask y9u this, n9r that y9u're the sec9nd high6l99d that has c9me t9 mind 9n this f9ul errand. 6ut I need t9 speak t9 y9u, Cr9nus.

CA: i knewv you couldnt keep awvay forevwer, doll. it vwas only a matter of time until the subtle allure of the unblock button wvould drag you back into my wvaitin arms.

\--- cardioGalitarian blocked casanovasAdonis \---

Nope. You're not stooping that low. You rub your temples just as you hear Aranea, again.

ARANEA: Kankri! Seriously, this is important.

ARANEA: God! You're so o8stin8 today!

You finally deign to open the door, looking up at her traitorous face.

KANKRI: Fine, Aranea, 6ut if this is anything less than vital t9 my ears, I am g9ing t9 ign9re y9u f9r the rest 9f the day.

Aranea huffs, calming herself before she can say something rude.

ARANEA: Do you want to play a game with Meenah and I?

You blink.

KANKRI: I will have t9 c9nsider it, due t9 my 6usy schedule, 6ut I supp9se it's fine t9 pencil me in f9r any plans y9u might 6e making, vis a vis games.

She smiles brightly. You decide to tell her later on that you already recruited Horuss.

Be the horse-boy. ==>

No need to BE the horse boy, dear reader. For I am already at his humble abode, as he mentioned previously. In fact, from my perspective, I have just approached his hive. It is large, as I'm told he is an indigo-blooded fellow. This is a rare chance for both of us- You know my future, at least in part, while I am left to ponder what it holds! It is quite exciting.

As I mentioned before, this "horse boy," in question is one of two remaining gaps in my omnipotence. A gap I am quite eager to fill. I hope he is not alarmed by the appearance of a sentient doll with an 8-ball for a head on his doorstep.

Knock knock!

An individual answers the door, staring at me with a slack jaw. He has long hair cascading from underneath a be-goggled mask that covers his face. Two horns in the shape of arrows point to the heavens, as he reaches-

HORUSS: 8=D < I specifically asked them for the centaur model. What on Beforus is this?

Oop. He Who Cavorts With The Behooved appears to think I am his mail. He is manhandling me rather badly. I'd better make myself known before my stuffing falls out.

SCRATCH: G-g-g-reetings, s-s-sir H-h-h-horus! I w-w-w-would appreciate if y-y-you ceased sh-sh-shaking me!

HORUSS: 8=D < Oh! Good heavens. My apologies, kind anthropomorph. I mistook you as an imminent parcel I'm soon to receive.

He sets me down gently, marveling at my construction. I don't blame him. He appears to be a knowledgeable craftsman.

HORUSS: 8=D < To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you some kind of felt automaton? I am an accomplished machinist, you see. I hope these questions are not forward of me.

SCRATCH: No bother. I am here to impart information to you, and to request information in return.

Horuss politely steps aside to allow me inside. His hive is... Immense, to say the least. It's also dreadfully cluttered, something to which I can relate. Machine parts line the walls, as well as paintings of... Er.

Well. With all due respect to my host, they are a bit tasteless. Some are photographs, but some are lovingly-rendered paintings, all of... Shall we say. Horses... Coupling? I'm sure it's some dadaist expression of surrealism. Perhaps a burglar deterrent?

Look, I can't overstate this. I'm basically looking at a lot of horse dicks, here.

HORUSS: 8=D < Ah! Admiring the collection, are you?

SCRATCH: I. Yes.

Okay, okay. So this guy is kind of a horse freak. That's fine. There has to be some other reason his existence causes me a gap in my omnipotence.

HORUSS: 8=D < I have more in storage, if you'd like to peruse. I have them rotated out every month or so.

SCRATCH: No! No, that's fine. Are they all of... Horses?

HORUSS: 8=D < These noble musclebeasts would decorate every square inch of my wall if physics permitted such things. Aren't they majestic?

Horuss lovingly runs a hand over a painting, right over a horse's crotch.

SCRATCH: They're... Something.

We walk further in, towards a living room. His mansion is dark and brooding, that or poorly lit.

Okay. Cards on the table? This guy gives me the creeps. I thought there was some huge reason that this Horuss guy was under my radar, but I'm starting to think I'd rather not know what he's got going on. He sits in a big armchair and I sit in one across from him. The room is filled with more horse paintings, as well as a life-sized replica of what appears to be a centaur.

Anatomically correct.

HORUSS: 8=D < I am all ears, mystery puppet woman. Please. Impart to me your knowledge.

SCRATCH: Right! Yes. I've come to tell you something. An omen of the future, so to speak.

SCRATCH: Soon, your friends and yourself will engage in a game. A game with catastrophic-

Horuss seems to zone out, pulling out his phone. I pause, but he continues to type.

SCRATCH: -Catastrophic consequences.

HORUSS: 8=D < That's quite a coincidence, kind puppet. For an associate of mine has just informed me that a game is presently being organized!

HORUSS: 8=D < It appears you are some kind of. Puppet oracle, befitting the shape of your cranium.

SCRATCH: Right. Well, ah.

I can't help but glance at the centaur statue again.

SCRATCH: I guess that's all, actually. Just. Keep your eyes peeled for the game.

Horuss laughs like he can't hear me very well, his voice raising. His mask-helmet appears to be filling with... Water?

Ah. No. The salty smell betrays it. It's sweat.

HORUSS: 8=D < Now, what did you mean to ask of me, o felt oracle?

I stand up hastily.

SCRATCH: Actually, on second thought, it's fine. Don't worry about it. I've got all I need!

HORUSS: 8=D < Well, don't be a stranger. I will never forget your wisdom.

Leaving his house, I shudder. It will be nice to return home. I'm starting to think that these gaps in my infinite sight aren't necessarily profound in their revelation. Some of them are just mundanities that are perhaps better left unknown.

Be Horuss. ==>

Er. Frankly. I've had enough of that guy for a bit.

Be Kankri. ==>

You attempt to be Kankri, but fail miserably. You are instead Meenah.

Looks like the search for co-players is going... Well? In terms of sheer numbers, it's going fine, but you're a little worried as to the quality of some of these bozos. Aranea has just reported back- Not only Meulin, but she's acquired Horuss and Kankri, too. You aren't hot on them, but... Aranea did hold true to her word.

\--- cruelCondescension began trolling arcaneGnowledge \---

CC: yo serk we should talk

CC: uh

CC: sea im thinkin about this game and i think its a good idea if we went with like

CC: teams

AG: Teams! Smart. Leave the less adept 8ehind on their team while we no dou8t take the prize!

CC: uhhhhhh

CC: yeah but sea

CC: i was thinkin since you got so many ppl

CC: you should be like team captain of that team!

This is a gambit. You know Aranea really wants to be on a team with you, but you SUPER do not. You can tell that she's conflicted, and you have a good idea as to why. On the one hand, she wants to be your teammate. Yet, on the other, Aranea LOVES bossing people around.

AG: Team... Captain?

CC: yeah for shore youd be soooo good serk

You cringe again. God, talking to Aranea lately is like pulling teeth.

AG: I'll make you proud in this competition! Team Spider8ite is a go.

CC: sick

Oh, thank god. She took the b8.

AG: So what will your team name 8e?

CC: team 2 i guess

AG: >::::/

CC: team 2 vs team spiderbite it is then

CC: i guess itll be six on six then

CC: sea ya round serk

\--- cruelCondescension stopped trolling arcaneGnowledge \---

This is good. The problem is, Team 2 currently has a single player on it. You're going to have to bust your ass to find teammates. The good news is, you know JUST where to start...


	5. INTERMISSION: "Where in the world is Meenah Piexes?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meenah has to avoid her own coronation.

The sands of time flow like an hourglass. A perigee passes since last we met our Beforan rogues gallery. Meenah fails to court her friends onto her team for the upcoming game.

Normally, I would say "not for lack of trying," but this was entirely for lack of trying. Unfortunately for her, responsibility has caught up, a fact she remembers only when there is a massive knock on her door.

"Oh, shit," she says, sitting suddenly upright on her respite-slab. She follows it up with, "Shit, fuck, shit, SHIT!"

She knows who it is. It's HER. It's coronation day. It's the day she's supposed to take the crown! Another booming knock rattles the doorframe. Meenah's heart hammers in her chest in step with the knocks- Nearly as loud in her ears, too.

She hadn't formulated a plan, either. Again- Entirely for lack of trying. She had hoped that she'd come up with a solution to the impending coronation by now, but she hadn't, and now, the impulsive Thief of Life does what thieves do best. She steals away.

Outside, a bemused Benevolence turns to one of her drones.

"Fetch the battering ram," she suggests calmly. She, of course, being more forward-thinking than her descendant, expected this.

Knocks turn into the irritable hammering of a battering ram onto Meenah's front door, and in short order, the façade is blown off its hinges to reveal the empty entry hall of Meenah's palace.

"Meenah!" Feferi barks inside. "It's time to face the music!"

Feferi rubs her temples. She's been under a fair amount of stress lately. What with the ever-more-frequent meteor showers requiring a great deal of cleanup, the pesky insurrectionists, and of course, now, the errant heiress. Feferi looks around. Something isn't right. Meenah has never avoided her like this.

"Meenah?" Feferi says, still loud, but more cautious.

An explosion rocks the palace. The foundation clatters, and Feferi leans on her trident to steady herself. Feferi rushes outside with her drones just in time to see a pink spaceship, rocketing into the distance, Meenah Piexes most likely within.

Feferi is dumbstruck. She stares, gaping after the vessel, but her awe quickly ferments into rage. She raises her trident and plunges it through one of her automaton-drones, who falls over ineffectually, the drone collapsing like a ragdoll. Two of its fellow automatons solemnly carry it away.

"Rrggh!!!!" Feferi bellows. But for all the good it did her, it didn't bring Meenah back.

===

Meenah didn't feel great about this. She'd had to fly off pretty much last-minute, and she had no doubts that the drones would be scouring the globe for her. She hated to impose, and most of all, she hated relying on others, but she knew she would have to make her way to the pink moon to lay low, again.

One of Meenah's frequent regrets in life was her lack of preparedness. She always adored lazing about and procrastinating, but too often, when it bit her in the ass, it bit hard. Each time, she swore to never put anything off again, but here she was, on a last-minute getaway from her responsibilities. Hell, her entire goal of entering this game of hers was an elaborate getaway in itself.

She sighed as she hurtled through space towards my home.

Ah, right. If it wasn't clear- It's me, Scratch, narrating. Hello!

She opened her phone, checking to see if she still had reception. Instead of text, she dialed a number.

She hated to do this, too, to impose, to rely on someone, let alone HER, let alone the person she should least trust with her emotions at the moment. But she was Meenah's only confidant.

"Meenah?" Aranea's voice said sleepily on the other line.

"I fucked up," was Meenah's answer. There was a long silence before Aranea replied.

"Be specific," she said, tiredly. It sounded like Meenah had awoken Aranea. Meenah knew that Aranea was aware that today was the coronation, and judging from Aranea's tone, she wouldn't be happy about Meenah's news.

"I kinda ran away?" Meenah said, sounding unsure. Aranea made a long sigh.

"You ran away from the Benevolence. After you promised me-"

"I know what I fuckin' promised, Aranea, but you don't understand!" Meenah's voice cracked. Aranea paused. She'd never heard Meenah like this- Vulnerable. It was rare. Almost unnerving.

"L-look, Meenah, calm down, I'm sure we can..."

"No! I'm sick of playin' this game with my best glubbin friend, Serk. I can't be your li'l savior any more. I'm just one-" Meenah's voice shuddered. Aranea could hear her crying. "I'm just one gill."

There was a drawn-out silence. Aranea felt suddenly guilty, for all the times she'd pressured Meenah into her role as heiress, all at once. She didn't speak, and Meenah broke the silence.

"I can't be what you all want," Meenah said, quietly. "I'm me. I'm not some princess. I'm not gonna be some empress."

Meenah's voice was pleading, it was imploring. She needed validation, she needed to hear Aranea say that it was okay. Aranea knew that, and she didn't have to be an empath to know so. For Meenah had lived her whole life under the pressure of expectation, and Aranea was the only person in this moment that could absolve her. Aranea opened her mouth to speak, to say those words, but they caught in her throat.

Aranea squeezed her eyes shut, picturing every person the Benevolence hurt, everyone the culling system harmed. Kankri. Mituna. The lowbloods, the highbloods. The toil, the pain...

Aranea closed her mouth.

"You need to go back," she said softly.

And in that moment, Meenah's heart broke. As soon as Aranea had spoken, she knew it was a grave mistake. She could hear Meenah go cold.

"Wait-" she managed one syllable before Meenah hung up the phone. It was just as well. She'd just touched down in my front yard.

===

In the following sweep, Feferi was absolutely furious. Not only were the meteor showers getting progressively worse, public opinion of her was... Stagnating, to say the least.

"Tell me again," she said to a nervous-looking tealblooded staffer. The professional-looking tealblood cleared his throat, adjusting a frilly dress shirt before reciting the results of the recent poll numbers.

"Forty-two percent, Miss Piexes," he said, voice squeaking near the end.

Feferi slammed a fist down on the desk. Approval ratings had never been below so much as seventy. She scowled, and waved her hand for the teal to go, who obliged, scurrying away like a little mouse. Feferi put her face in her hands. All of her trustworthy advisors were long-dead. Even the Grand-Matron was gone, now. She felt so crushingly alone, and now she didn't have the approval of her people. All because of that- That-!

"That BEACH!" Feferi hissed to herself. They hadn't been able to find Meenah, not her drones, not her endless throngs of secret service. She'd flown the coop! She was probably among the stars, now. And worse still, the public suspected HER!

She hated this. The public LOVED Meenah for some reason, loved the idea that power could be turned over in a civil manner, and they saw Meenah's mysterious absence as far too suspicious. Too convenient. There had been rumblings that the Benevolence had done away with Meenah, like olden times. After centuries of rule, she finally saw merit to how her predecessor ran things.

"At least they wouldn't dare complain if I ran things the old fashioned way..." she muttered to herself, standing up, looking out one of her expansive windows down onto the city below. Her mind turned to the Grand-Matron, and visions of another one of her associates.

"Can't get any good teal-bloods around here, these days..." she muttered sullenly.

===

Years in the past, many.

In the same office, overlooking the same view, a much younger Feferi Piexes looked out across a much younger city. That wasn't to say she was young- More like "young-er." Though for the time, she still looked just as dour as we left her in the present.

"Boss," came a voice from the doorway. It was a familiar tealblood, a sharp, cold-voiced woman known to her business associates by a fearsome Mononym: The Prosecutor. Unlike the weak-kneed tealblood of the present, The Prosecutor was a welcome sight. Feferi's gaze relaxed.

"Ah, Miss Pyrope," Feferi said brusquely. "I hope it's good news this time."

The Prosecutor straightened her jacket haughtily. Her crimson boots matched her glasses, which, in turn, matched her eyes, red and burnt-out from blindness. For a blind troll, she was certainly skilled, as she should be, as head of The Benevolence's legal team. The Prosecutor's horns jutted out starkly from her head, perfect cones under a perfect coiff, rendered motionless from a rigorous regimen of brushing.

"It is," said The Prosecutor. "As a matter of fact, we've apprehended the two leaders of the insurrectionist gang and they're being held for questioning."

Feferi breathed a sigh of relief.

For sweeps, a roving gang of hoodlums had been waging war on The Benevolence. Her approval ratings were high, but she hadn't counted on outspoken minorities, much less ones endowed with funding. No doubt some highbloods bent on sending things back to how they were, blood-supremacy and all.

"We also took in several prominent members. It was as you predicted. Without their leaders, the organization is helpless. They're scattered to the wind."

The Prosecutor took a bow. Humility would never be a virtue she could be accused of. Her Imperious Benevolence nodded.

"Good work, Miss Pyrope. I expect this success will be further expressed in your salary, and in accolades," Feferi said, sitting back at her desk with renewed satisfaction.

"Naturally," said The Prosecutor. "But the job isn't finished yet. We need to know their motives and their co-conspirators. They couldn't have acquired their means alone."

"Oh?" Feferi cocked a brow. "I would have guessed they were dissatisfied aristocrats."

"Negative, Boss." The Prosecutor rested her hands on her pale white walking cane. At its top was the head of an alabaster dragon- An effigy of course, of The Prosecutor's lusus. "They weren't highbloods. It was a cerulean and a brownblood."

"Brown??" Feferi laughed. "Oh, god, no doubt, he got mixed up and indoctrinated into some conspiracy. What reason would a lowblood have to rebel? I've done well for them all."

"Maybe." The Prosecutor didn't sound convinced, but she wasn't here to criticize the empress. Just do a job. "The cerulean's been on our radar for a while. Woman who goes by 'Punk Rock Duchess of Spiders and Pain,' and the brownblood is a fellow who goes by the name, uh-" The Prosecutor hesitated, her nose crinkling. "The Breeder."

"Breeder?" Feferi's nose wrinkled, too.

"He communes with animals. His real name is Nitram."

Feferi nodded curtly.

"Well get any information they may have and... Do what you will, Miss Pyrope."

===

Memories. Feferi placed a hand against the glass of her window. She scowled at her own face, dimly reflected in the misty surface. That was the last she ever saw of The Prosecutor.

As she gazed up at the pink moon, she pondered where in the universe Meenah Piexes might be, her mind turning from memory to the present.

===

Long story short: Meenah spent an extended stay at my manor. Short story long- Well. You'll have to read on to find out, won't you?

For those of you keeping score, though, two perigees have passed since this story's inception. A mere ten remain before the game begins. Are you excited? I know I am. But I should impart something to you, dear reader.

I said at the outset of this tale that I knew my days were numbered. I have omitted some facts, again, this time from you. Though it wasn't from cruelty. I do hope you understand. I know one thing about the game, one small factoid amongst the void that is my knowledge on the subject.

Once the sweep is up and the game begins, I will be no more.


	6. Meulin' Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meulin asks her beloved matesprit if it's okay to play video games.
> 
> MILD TW: Knives.

Your name is MEULIN LEIJON. You think your life is pretty great, all things considered. You live DEEP IN THE JUNGLE in a TREEHIVE, for starters- The coolest type of hive, in your opinion. Even better, you're in a long-distance MATESPRITSHIP with the LOVE OF YOUR LIFE. You also are a firm adherent to his HIGHBLOOD RELIGION, and as such, are a devout JUGGALETTE. You don't quite understand his religion, but it makes him happy when you say "miracles" a lot and dress up in clown makeup, which you don't mind one bit!

The rest of your QUADRANTS are not quite so well-filled, but with a matesprit like this, who needs moirails? Right now, your LUSUS is away on a hunting trip, leaving you COMPLETELY ALONE in the treehive. You miss your lusus, but you do like the peace and quiet!

Your speech tends to be (=•́ܫ•̀=) hyperactive and overexcited!!!! and your online handle is adorableCalico.

What will you do?

Examine hive. ==>

Your treehive rules! There's only one problem with it, really, a niggle! Nothing too significant. You can't really... Climb down from it. It's embarrassing, you know, but it's not so bad! In the past, there was a pulley system that elevatored you down, but that broke when you were just a kitten. It's easy to climb up the tree using your trusty RETRACTABLE PAW-CLAW 9000, but getting down... That's another story!

Inside the tree, however, are all the amenities you would ever need. In one corner, there's your favorite pile of pelts that your beloved lusus peeled from the skin of Beforus's Jungle Prey animals. She's so sweet and thoughtful! You could lay in that for hours. If only you had a moirail to lay with...

Against the wall are your own hunting apparatus! Even though you can no longer disembark from your treehive, you have an intricate bow-and-arrow system: You attach rope to your arrows, so whatever unsuspecting animal they skewer on the forest floor, you can reel them up to feast on! It works great. If only you had a kismesis to hunt with...

Wrangle up some grub. ==>

Your stomach growls. You have work to do, you've got to ask your matesprit if he wants to play games with you and Aranea, but your tummy is making the rumblies! You can't deny the call of your stomach.

Trusty bow in hand, you crawl deftly out your window, onto one of the wide, pale blue branches of your tree, using your keen vision to spy for prey. You're nearly fifty feet in the air, but your oliveblood eyes have no trouble spotting a little squeakbeast rummaging through the leaves far below. Purrfect. You breathe deeply, eyes focusing in.

Your eyes widen, your nose flares, your skin tingles. Every sound falls away as you silently breathe up in your tree and nock the arrow, taking careful aim. After a tense moment, the silence is broken by a whizzing "THUNK." Your aim, as usual, is true. The arrow is struck through the little squeakbeast. Solemnly, you thank it for being your meal.

Eat! ==>

You'll spare us the gory details, but suffice to say, you're pretty freaky when it comes to feasting. You just kind of... Reel the squeakbeast up and dig in! Gross. Well. Not in YOUR opinion.

Your sordid deed done, you crawl carefully back inside, shutting the window, patting your stomach, hanging your bow back on the wall.

Talk to your matesprit! ==>

Yessss! You've been waiting for this.

\--- adorableCalico began trolling thunderousCaterwaul \---

AC: (=✪ ᆺ ✪=) < kurrrrlllooooooooozzzzz!!!!!!!!

AC: (=^ェ^=) < i have AMAZING news! i cant wait to tell you!

TC: KURLOZ makara is unavailable at the moment. THIS is his automated trollian message indicating he is afk. PLEASE do leave a message when you can.

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < twagic!!!

AC: (^･o･^)ﾉ" < please get back to me ASAP ok?

TC: KURLOZ makara is unavailable at the moment. THIS is his automated trollian message indicating he is afk. PLEASE do leave a message when you can.

\--- adorableCalico ceased trolling thunderousCaterwaul \---

Oop. Looks like you're getting another message!

\--- arcaneGnowledge began trolling adorableCalico \---

AG: Meulin! Have you spoken to Kurloz yet? We presently have a full team.

AG: I 8elieve so, anyway. You DID speak to him, right? It's 8een two perigees.

AC: (≧☉_☉≦) < ummmmm!

AC: (=ꆤᆽꆤ=) < im really sorry purranea! i kept on putting it off and putting it off. i JUST messaged him and he will be getting back to me soon.

AG: I understand. Just please do let me know if he says no so I can find other participants. Though...

AG: Truthfully, I'm not sure the game is even still on. Meenah was the one who originally 8rought it up, 8ut she has 8een, um. AWOL.

AC: (ﾐ⚈ᆽ◕ﾐ) < AWOL?

AG: Indeed. I might have said some unpleasant things to her, and we haven't spoken since... I feel just awful.

AC: (≧☉_☉≦) < oh my gosh, is that why she went into hiding??

AC: (≧☉_☉≦) < i heard she missed her coronation!!!

AG: I just wish I could speak to her.

Your heart suddenly begins pounding. This is your chance! You see a golden opportunity laid out before you! If you act as the go-between for Aranea and Meenah, you could secure yourself a spot in their quadrant as an auspitice!

AC: (=◐ᆽ◐=)ฅ < ARANEA!!!

AC: (=◐ᆽ◐=)ฅ < i volunteer to speak to meenah on your behalf and try to bridge the gap!!!!!

AC: (=✪ ᆺ ✪=) < youll see! youll be chatting before sunrise!!!!!

AG: Meulin, w8!!!!!!!!

\--- adorableCalico ceased trolling arcaneGnowledge \---

YES! You pump your fists in the air! The trickiest quadrant to master, and the chance just fell right into your lap. You're so excited you could squee! In fact. You just might. But later! After you've secured the ashen quadrant. For now, you've got auspitizing to do!

\--- adorableCalico began trolling cruelCondescension \---

AC: ฅ ̳͒•ˑ̫• ̳͒ฅ < *the purrbeast reaches her paw coyly into the fearsome sea toothbeast's tank! is she angling for a meal or will she become the meal purrself?*

CC: *the sea toothbeast breaches the surface like a fuckin majestic movie scene*

CC: *and like winks at the purrbeast or w/e*

CC: *fuck im bad at this*

CC: *what do you want meu*

CC: i mean what do you want meu

CC: im kinda not in a gr8 mood

CC: i mean great

AC: (=•́ܫ•̀=) < just checking up on my good friend! i mean. were good friends, right meenah?

CC: uh

CC: fuck i was about to say no bc we like never talk

CC: but shit if seein that notification from you didnt make me smile a lil

AC: (=✪ ᆺ ✪=) < reely!!!!

CC: heh

CC: reely

CC: plus your pun game on point

CC: i dont let just anyone get away with that shit

AC: ♡(>ω< ✿) < awwww!

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < i wish i could just bask in this sweet friendship, meenah, but i have some important business with you.

CC: is it aboat the game

CC: i thought you were on araneas team

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < i am!! but she let me know things were a little rocky between you...

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < i just wanted to make sure the game was still on on her behalf!

CC: yeah i mean the games still on ig

CC: you can tell her that if shes super pressed

AC: └(=^‥^=)┐< yay!

CC: but that doesnt mean im still not kinda pissed at her

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < not yay...

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < may i ask what happened between you two??

CC: ugh

CC: how much do you know

AC: (=•́ܫ•̀=) < i know you both broke up! but that you guys still made up after that. then, when you skipped your coronation, you two stopped talking.

CC: thats p much the whole n the half of it ya

CC: i just thought like

CC: she cared aboat me yknow?

Yes. Yes!! Your auspitice-senses are tingling. Meenah is just BEGGING for it! You'll comfort her, then report back to Aranea, then you'll open up a memo between them and be their intermediary until the end of time! You can't wait!

AC: (=◐ᆽ◐=)ฅ < meenah she cares about you a lot! i know it might not seem that way, because she can be kind of blunt and um.

AC: (˄·͈༝·͈˄) < blockheaded!

AC: (=◐ᆽ◐=)ฅ < but she still loves you! you just need to talk to her and tell her what you need to hear.

CC: ugh

CC: yknow meu

CC: talkin to you made me realize somefin

You're on the edge of your seat. It's just like before, when you were hunting. Your eyes are wide, all sound falls away, and you lean in closer to the screen! Shoot the arrow... Reel her in...!

CC: she never gave a shit aboat me at all outside bein the heiress

CC: not like you do

CC: 3;)

You blink. Wait. What?

CC: youre so much nicer than she is

CC: i always kinda had a flush crush on you yknow

CC: lmao fuck i cant believe i just said that

Oh. Oh, no!!! OH SHIT!!! Things are off the rails. This was NOT how you imagined things going. Panic fills your heart! Meenah HAS to know you're already spoken for! Your hands tremble, unsure of what to type.

AC: ∩(・ω・)∩ < um!!!!!!

CC: hey uh

CC: maybe you wanna come over sometime

CC: my new place is kinda hard to get to but

AC: ∩(・ω・)∩ < oh no! meenah! my internet is cutting out!

\--- adorableCalico blocked cruelCondescension \---

You put your face in your hands. GOD, that was awkward. Aranea must really have hurt Meenah's feelings, that flushcrush confession felt all kinds of wrong. You decide never to tell ANYONE aboat this.

You mean ABOUT!

Message YOUR matesprit. ==>

Maybe Kurloz is finally online. Unfortunately, he isn't, after a quick check. Rats.

You still feel a little awkward from that interaction. You don't want to message Aranea back, that's a can of worms you don't DARE open. You shudder, imagining her reaction if she knew you accidentally flirted with her ex. You also feel horrible that your chance to auspitize between them has been dashed!

Maybe this is something you need to talk about with your GURU.

Message your wise and powerful QUADRANT GURU. ==>

\--- adorableCalico began trolling glorifiedAdmirer \---

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < good morning, o wise and noble guru!!!

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < i have need of your sage advice.

GA: Miss Leijo+n. It's been a while. Is everything alright with yo+ur matesprit?

GA: Also+ my rates have go+ne up. I ho+pe this do+esn't inco+nvenience yo+u. It's no+w thirteen bo+o+ndo+llars per half ho+ur.

AC: (=◐ᆽ◐=) < worth every boonpenny!

AC: (^-.-^J) < and no, everything is okay with kurloz. its, um...

AC: (^-.-^J) < well i was pursuing some ashen affections! two of my close good friends were having a lovers quarrel and i wanted to help them communicate, but it went off the rails... one of the friends confessed their red affection for ME!!!

GA: Yikes.

GA: It so+unds as tho+ugh yo+u do+n't return tho+se affectio+ns. Is that co+rrect?

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < of course not! i love my matesprit!

GA: Go+o+d. Because it so+unds as tho+ugh this friend o+f yo+urs is o+n the rebo+und. Engaging with her wo+uld have been a nightmare fo+r everyo+ne invo+lved.

GA: While yo+ur attempt was admirable, Miss Leijo+n, I also+ hate to+ info+rm yo+u that yo+ur affectio+ns were do+o+med fo+r failure fro+m the start.

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ)

GA: Yo+u see, Auspitices are no+t the intermediaries between flushed lo+vers. Unless this co+uple was vacilating hard, their red affectio+ns wo+uldn't necessitate an in-between. That isn't to+ say yo+ur intentio+ns were no+t no+ble.

GA: In fact, it so+unds like yo+u were being a go+o+d friend.

AC: (ﾐ꒡ᆽ꒡ﾐ) < friend zoned again...

GA: So+ it seems. My advice, as yo+ur guru, is to+ leave the affair alo+ne fo+r a while. Let everything simmer do+wn.

AC: (๑꒡ᆽ꒡๑) < i will heed your advice!!

GA: I wo+uldn't wo+rry abo+ut yo+ur empty quadrants, frankly. Yo+u share a rare lo+ve with the matesprit yo+u have already. Take co+mfo+rt in this when yo+u feel do+wn.

AC: (๑꒡ᆽ꒡๑) < i would! i wish he was online...

GA: I think that abo+ut wraps things up. Tho+ugh... I am glad yo+u spo+ke to+ me, Miss Leijo+n.

GA: I had a dream abo+ut yo+u.

AC: ( =｀ω´= ) < a dream?

GA: Indeed. A dream, perhaps a pro+phecy. Perhaps a metapho+r. I believe it is impo+rtant to+ share.

GA: Each night, I dream o+f a go+lden city- An empire amo+ng empty space, with spires and co+lumns, each to+pped with a daggerlike steeple. I wander the streets in my dreams and see alabaster denizens, who+ bo+w as I pass.

AC: (=◑ᆽ◑=)

GA: But two+ nights ago+, as I explo+red the city in my dreams, I enco+untered a do+o+rway to+ ano+ther place. The mirro+r o+f my go+lden city, shro+uded instead in regal purple, with co+al-black denizens who+ regarded me with suspicio+n. 

GA: In my haste to+ escape their judgmental eyes, I fled to+ a to+wer. It was o+ne o+f six that do+tted the skyline. And in that to+wer, dear Miss Leijo+n... There was a bed.

GA: And in that bed, yo+u slept so+undly.

AC: (ﾐ⚈ᆽ◕ﾐ) < i was in your dream??

GA: Yo+u were. In my dream, I appro+ached yo+ur bed and to+uched the side o+f yo+ur face. Yo+u stirred gently, but yo+u kept sleeping. Yo+u lo+o+ked like yo+u were having a nightmare. I became afraid fo+r yo+u, so+ I sho+o+k yo+u awake.

AC: (๑꒡ᆽ꒡๑) < well on behalf of dream-me, thank you!

GA: Do+ yo+u remember anything like that, Miss Leijo+n?

AC: (๑꒡ᆽ꒡๑) < i dont think so!!! the only dream i remember from two nights ago is waking up and screaming because there was a rainbow drinker attacking me!

GA: Um.

AC: (=◑ᆽ◑=) < OH!!! i have to go miss guru, my matesprit just got online!!

GA: Miss Leijo+n, wait-

AC: (≧∇≦)/ < ill send payment for this session ASAP!!! bye!

\--- adorableCalico ceased trolling glorifiedAdmirer \---

No time to think about weird dreams! Kurloz just messaged you!!!! You squee for real this time. In fact, if he were here, you might go so far as to glomp him!

\--- thunderousCaterwaul began trolling adorableCalico \---

TC: MIRACULOUS evening to you, my love.

TC: WHAT a wicked and motherfuckin excellent day to awaken to a message from you.

AC: (≧∇≦)/ < kurlooooozzzzzzzz!!!!!!!

TC: HAHA, im glad youre so motherfuckin excited to see me

TC: IF i could muster the same kind of energy as you im sure as shit that id type that many shout poles my own self.

TC: HEY, before we begin our miraculous repartee i have a gift for you.

AC: (=^ェ^=) < a gift??

TC: HELL yeah lil mama.

TC: THE gift as a matter of fact: RIDDLES.

AC: (=•́ܫ•̀=) < hehe!!

TC: AFTER all, as riddle solvers go. NO one is better than my lil kitty.

TC: WITHOUT further pomp and/or circumstance. LET the riddling fuckin commence.

TC: "YOU WALK ALL THE FUCK OVER ME. I AM ALWAYS WITH YOU. I AM ALWAYS WATCHING. BUT I CAN NEVER FUCKIN' HELP YOU. WHAT THE FUCK AM I?"

AC: (=^ェ^=) < hehe kurloz, that ones easy!

AC: (=^ェ^=) < youre my shadow!

TC: HAHA, fuck. I cant pull the wool over your eyes lil kittybitch.

TC: JUST like im your proverbial shadow. ALWAYS keepin my watchful eye all up on you.

AC: >:3

TC: ANYWAY babe. WHAT the fuck is it you need of your humble shadow this fine fine night?

AC: (^･o･^)ﾉ" < weeeellll... i told aranea that i would be on her team in a game she wants to play later.

AC: (^･o･^)ﾉ" < and i just wanted to clear it with you!

TC: SHIT babe. I dont own you or any shit like that. YOU dont have to talk to me about what kind of games you want to play.

TC: BUT im honored you opened up communique with me about that miraculous event.

AC: (≧∇≦)/ < yaaaay!

AC: (=^ェ^=) < you can play too of course!

AC: (=^ェ^=) < in fact id love it if you did!! right now the team is me, aranea, kankri, and horuss! youd make the fifth player.

TC: SHIT babe that sounds like a banger of a time.

TC: BUT uh.

TC: IT all depends on the time frame. YOU know ive got responsibilities on the ranch here.

AC: (=•́ܫ•̀=) < its probably not going to be for a while!

TC: EVEN still my little kittybitch. THINGS have been sort of happening around here that have exacerbated my responsibilities.

TC: NOT to mention my righteous ascension.

AC: (=^ェ^=) < dont worry kurloz! im sure the game wont be a huge deal or anything.

AC: (=✪ ᆺ ✪=) < whats been happening on the ranch?

TC: OH uh. WELL its kind of miraculous but. A big fuckin meteor kind of came down from the heavens and struck one of our store-houses.

TC: FUCKIN obliterating it and everyone inside.

AC: (≧☉_☉≦) < oh no!

TC: SUFFICE to say its kind of stressful as fuck around here.

TC: ON top of all that... WELL.

TC: I dont want to worry you babe...

AC: (=^ェ^=) < you can tell me anything kurloz!!

TC: FUCK. OKAY.

TC: BASICALLY, my dreams have been getting way worse.

AC: (≧☉_☉≦)

TC: WHATS up? YOU okay?

AC: (≧☉_☉≦) < sorry! youre just not the only person to have brought up dreams tonight. go ahead kurloz, tell me about your dreams.

TC: WELL, my miraculous existence in my dreams has been sort of fraught. SEE, ive been getting stalked in my snoozing hours by a man.

TC: "FESTOONED IN BLACK, I STALK WITH KNIVES. I ALWAYS FIND YOU, ASTRAY OF HIVES. WHO AM I?"

TC: SUCH is the riddle of my dreams. SOME kind of murderous asshole stalker. WHO haunts me when i sleep.

AC: (ﾐ⚈ᆽ◕ﾐ) < oof. i dont really know what any of that means... on the bright side!! its all in your dreams! its not like you can die in a dream.

TC: RIGHTEOUSLY so my little kitty cat. FUCK if that doesnt make me just a modicum better.

TC: ALRIGHT well lets plan to play this game. SHOULD my circumstances motherfuckin afford me the chance.

TC: I really hate to scram so soon babe. BUT ive got some shit to do.

TC: WE will speak again soon.

AC: ( =｀ω´= ) < we will! bye kurloz. i love you!!!!

TC: LOVE you too, babe. MIRACLES be with you.

AC: ( =｀ω´= ) < miracles be with you!

\--- thunderousCaterwaul ceased trolling adorableCalico \---

You feel much better. All in all, it's been a weird day, but talking to Kurloz always makes you feel better. You'll message Aranea and tell her the good news, that the fifth teammate has been secured! Later, though. You're not ready to face her after the awkward conversation with Meenah... You cringe when you think of it.

Light filters in your window. Looks like sunrise is soon. Time to get some sleep! You close the blinds and disrobe, crawling inside of your recupacoon, yawning sweetly to yourself, taking no time at all to fall into a deep sleep.

===

After what feels like a mere moment, you awaken. Your vision is bleary, and you feel around, surprised not to feel sopor slime, but... A respite slab? You rub your eyes, blinking awake, and you gasp.

You're no longer in your room, but somewhere else entirely. Your heart thuds in your chest as you realize what's going on with a soft laugh. A dream! Phew! You were scared for a second, there. But... This dream feels familiar. Something about it is oddly invigorating you with deja vu. You walk to the window, noticing your clothes are different. You're dressed in a gown, purple, matching the walls of this dream-room.

When you peek out the window, however, the dream falls into place.

Just like Porrim said- A purple city, with jagged steeples, dark and mysterious. Far below your room, which is evidently inside a massive tower, little black-colored people mill around, doing their business.

MEULIN: EEP!

You slip! To your horror, you find yourself falling forward through your window, surely to plummet towards the horrible depths below!

But you never do. In fact, after falling out of your window, it appears you can fly! What a convenient relief! You laugh excitedly, testing your power of flight, floating around the sky above your tower, waving to the people below! They don't appear to be trolls, but instead, little round people, some of whom wave up back at you! This is the best dream ever!

After a few hours of flying, you begin walking through the streets below. The black carapiced people don't speak to you, but watch you in awe as you pass. You wave politely to them, and each one you do looks starstruck! Maybe you're a celebrity in this dream. A purple pajama-wearing celebrity! You giggle to yourself.

Something catches your eye in the distance. It looks like- Could it be? There's a flash of someone running into an alleyway a block down the road! someone who isn't a black-carapiced person! Maybe another dreamer, like you? Maybe it's Porrim! You happily dash after the shape, feeling your feet leave the ground, floating through the streets.

This is probably the best dream you've ever had! Flying carefree through a magical city, enjoying new sights and sounds, being able to fly! It's all so real! All so wonderful! As you persue the other dreamer, you laugh, and you're surprised to hear it's the happiest laugh that's ever left your lips! You LOVE this place!

And the cherry on top, what makes your heart nearly stop out of joy, is the dreamer that you see in the purple pajamas is none other than Kurloz!!

MEULIN: kurloz!!!

You cry, flying after him. You're SURE he's going to be so happy to see you!

But to your shock, when he turns around, he looks frightened.

KURLOZ: MEULIN?

MEULIN: kurloz!!

MEULIN: its so good to see you! this is the best dream ever!

MEULIN: but- why do you look so scared?

KURLOZ: LOOK, babe we need to beat it. THERES a guy after me and hes right on my tail.

Your smile falters. Kurloz looks scared. His immense hair, usually unkempt, looks especially disheveled, his eyes wild, unlike his usual calm easygoing expression.

MEULIN: kurloz, relax! its all just a dream! im sure its nothing too terrible. i bet together we can take him on!

Suddenly, though, at the other end of the dark purple alleyway, someone steps into view. Your blood suddenly runs cold. Like the rest of the black carapices on the street, he's shiny and colored like coal, but unlike the citizens of this city, he looks menacing.

???: well well well. looks like the clown aint the only one who woke up. must be my lucky day.

In the stranger's hand is a long knife. His teeth, when they grin, look razor-sharp and deadly, too. Kurloz steps between you and the menacing man.

???: damn shame. i hate to kill a buncha kids like this, i really do. i say let em grow up and THEN kill em. right now its like shootin fish in a barrel. tsk.

Kurloz doesn't speak, watching the man carefully. You can't speak, can't move. This is all so strange and upsetting! This has gone from the best to the worst dream!

MEULIN: just back off whoever you are!

Your voice falters. The stranger laughs. To your surprise, Kurloz hushes you, and behind his back, he's pulling a weapon of his own from the waistband of his purple pajama pants.

KURLOZ: HEY guy.

KURLOZ: YOU like riddles?

Kurloz grips the knife, swallowing, waiting for the stranger to get closer.

???: nah. never had a taste for em.

KURLOZ: "I HAVE A HANDLE, BUT I'M NOT A DOOR. I CAN BE FOUND IN THE CUPBOARD DRAWER. DON'T GIVE ME A LICK, OR YOUR TONGUE WILL GET SORE. WHAT AM I?"

The stranger pauses, and his mouth pulls back from a menacing grin to an amused smile.

???: dats easy, kid. youre a knife.

The stranger suddenly lunges, closing the gap between the two of you. Kurloz draws his knife, but it's too late. You're acting on impulse, now. You push your matesprit to the side and cry out, blocking Kurloz from danger!

MEULIN: don't-!!!

KURLOZ: MEU, no!!!

You feel the knife sink into your chest.

===

MEULIN: BUH!!!

You wake up in sopor slime, hands shaking. You take a moment to steady your breathing, laying back in the sopor bath. Just a dream. Thank goodness.

As your breathing returns to normal, you think over the final moments of the dream, and you can't help but laugh.

MEULIN: if i ever have that dream again, i wont forget to fly away!


	7. GameBro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> does mituna look different to you guys?

Perigees in the past, but not many...

Your name is MITUNA CAPTOR. You are part of an ANCIENT ORDER of PSIIONICS, and you are slated to become the power source of a new class of intergalactic flagship for Her Imperious Benevolence, a role you are more than happy to play. That is- You would be if your PROPHETIC DOOM VISIONS weren't a thing. For a LOWBLOOD, you have a particularly high status, being the most powerful psiionic on the planet, possibly in HISTORY. It is a lot of PRESSURE, but you manage to keep yourself sane. 

You have a passion for TRANSPORTATION of all kinds, be it trains, ships, or even your favorite: WHEELED PLANK DEVICES. You share this passion with your MATESPRIT, along with a passion for CLASSIC VIDEO GAMES. You consider yourself to be something of a GAMER BOY. You frequent imageboards to that end semi-frequently.

Your speaking style is >completely unremarkable, and your online handle is tragicAeons.

What will you do?

Examine respiteblock. ==>

You live in a communal hive complex with the other yellowbloods that, like you, are being trained in the Interstellar Battery program. Your kind are powerful psiionics who both power and steer Her Imperious Benevolence's vessels through the depths of space, carrying cargo, and making contact with new planets. Again, you love piloting, but you know deep down that this will never come to pass.

Your respiteblock is full to brimming with STUFF. You're a little disorganized, frankly, but you know where most things are. For example, in one pile are all the video game consoles that you're working on fixing. In another, there are some homebrew wheeled plank devices you're working on with your MATESPRIT. Sometimes you think you're defined by your endless works-in-progress.

Get to work. ==>

Luckily, today is your day off. No training today, which makes most of your yellow-blood peers happy, but not you. You vastly prefer test-driving new spacecrafts, since unlike your peers, your psiionic abilities are too powerful to be used under normal circumstances. In fact, to keep them under wraps and from wreaking havoc on those around you, you have to wear a special helmet to prevent your eye-beams from obliterating everything in sight!

On the bright side, your day off means that you can discuss something important with The Heiress.

You've never spoken to The Heiress before, but you're mutual friends with her. There was a time where you were excited for her reign and working under her in her fleet, but you know that will never happen. She won't even ascend to the throne at all.

No matter, though.

Talk to The Heiress. ==>

\--- tragicAeons sent cruelCondescension a fiend request. ---

\--- tragicAeons began trolling cruelCondescension. ---

CC: new clam who dis?

TA: >hey, my name's mituna. you're friends with my MATESPRIT, i think.

CC: uhhhh

CC: im friends with a buncha people

TA: >she's probably talked about me. mituna?

CC: oh shit hey

CC: nice to meet you ig??

CC: no offense bro but i kinda got shit to be doin. im boutta visit my aunt

TA: >what's an aunt??

CC: i dont fuckin know i gotta ask her one of these days

TA: >right.

TA: >well. look, i need to talk to you. it's about a game.

CC: oh yeah tula said youre a gamer or whatever

CC: haha tula n tuna

CC: thats p cute

TA: >thanks? i think. i'm serious, though, this is important.

CC: whale make it snappy tuna boy im boutta touch down

TA: >just don't play any games given to you by the demon in pink.

CC: demon in pink. got it. lmao

\--- cruelCondescension ceased pestering tragicAeons. \---

You don't know why you bother. There's nothing you can do to prevent the impending doom of your planet, but still, you have to try. You can't just sit by and watch it happen, you must have been given these visions for a reason.

===

In the present day...

\--- cruelCondescension began pestering tragicAeons \---

CC: yo tuna

CC: speak to me beach

TA: >be me

TA: >wake up to message from the heiress

TA: >MFW

TA: 

CC: lmao

CC: youre probably seamultaneously the most annoyin and least annoyin person i know

TA: >i'll take that as a compliment.

CC: sounds good

CC: wanna play a game w me?

CC: me n aranea are makin teams for a game

TA: >a game?

TA: >this isn't the game i warned you about, is it?

CC: nah no pink demons

CC: just my auntie

CC: jurys still out on WTF that is tho

TA: >very well.

TA: >if it is unrelated to pink demons, i'd be happy to play with you. honored, even.

CC: ok dont make it weird ok

TA: >weird?

CC: i know youre like. way all about the empress n shit.

TA: >oh, don't get me wrong. i know you'll never ascend to the throne.

CC: wait reely??

CC: fuck thats a relief

CC: bluh wait is this about your BS "visions?"

TA: >that feel when the heiress doesn't trust your visions twofold...

TA: 

CC: look noah fence my dude but

CC: if a dude says he can sea the future im gonna react with a drip of skepticism

TA: >i guess it's no biggie. after all, they're inevitable anyway.

TA: >i mean... i kind of hope they're not, you know?

TA: >i can't tell what i want more. to circumvent my own horrible prophecies or to finally prove to everyone i was right all along.

CC: ok captain navel gazing

CC: do you wanna play the game or not

TA: >yeah!

TA: >sounds fun. i love games.

CC: tight

CC: oh before i go could you ask tula too

TA: >absolutely.

TA: >wait, why can't you ask her?

CC: oh uh

CC: i got some unfinished business

TA: >ominous!

\--- cruelCondescension ceased trolling tragicAeons. \---

Speaking to the Heiress was much less intimidating than you thought once. Now you're proud to call her a friend, even if, like all of your other friends, she doesn't believe your visions.

Talk to your Matesprit. ==>

You will, in due time. Unfortunately, you first have to speak to someone else. Someone less... Pleasant.

You're not sure why, but your quadrants have always been a busy place. You're not a slut or something, you just always seem to attract weirdos. The weirdos of the kind, fun variety occupy your red quads, whereas the less savory weirdos always seem to clog up your black...

\--- thunderousCaterwaul began trolling tragicAeons \---

TC: HEY dipshit.

TC: LOOKS like meenah got you on board her little game huh?

TA: 

TA: >that feel when your shitty kismesis bothers you twice in one day.

TC: WHATEVER dude.

TC: I was just asking what team youre on.

TA: >i am on the same team as the heiress, since she was the one to ask, presumably.

TC: THANK the fucking juggalo in the sky. FREE of your ass.

TA: >still on about your precious higher power?

TC: YEAH as a matter of fact. HIS miracles are as miraculous as ever.

TC: YOURE just jealous that all you got is shitty visions of tragedy

TC: HERES a riddle for you

TC: "I'M SHROUDED BY GLOOM, I FORESEE DOOM, I'M TOTALLY LAME, ON SKATEBOARDS I ZOOM. WHAT AM I?"

TC: IM you jackass. HAHA.

TA: >i think the only thing tragic is that the only person who believes me about my visions is a superstitious jackass who believes in fairies and imaginary things.

TA: >you probably believe in magic.

TC: HM.

TC: WELL since magic is a form of miracles i guess its motherfuckin safe to assume i do indeed.

TA: >i think the biggest tragedy is that you would be tolerable if you didnt believe in your "mirthful messiah."

TC: EAT shit dog. MM is coming. YOU should be able to see that with your shitty visions.

TA: >ugh

Why do you even talk to this guy? As kismesises go, he's not half bad. You know he'd have your back in a fight, but you argue too much about dumb bullshit like this. 

TC: I dont see why you need to be such a lil weasel dude.

TC: OR whats wrong with a lil faith

TA: >i have plenty of faith. i have faith in the sciences, in theorems, in proven phenomena.

TC: TCH. THATS all boring shit

TC: IF you dont leave a lil room for magic my guy life is just boring

TA: >ill take boring over asinine.

TA: >by the way, do you know where meenah got this game from? im a little worried.

TC: SHIT you dont think it was the pink demon was it?

TA: >she said it isn't. she told me she got it from her aunt, but i don't know what that is.

TC: THATS a relief my dude. LOOKS like youre in the clear.

TC: WHATS an aunt though?

TA: >fuck if i know.

TC: ILL do some digging. FIND out whats what. ITS probably fine but its better safe than sorry.

TA: >thanks. i guess.

TA: >for believing my visions, and for checking.

TC: WHATEVER. ITS not because were buds or anything. I just know not to mess with the pink demon.

TA: >well either way.

TA: >thanks.

\--- tragicAeons ceased trolling thunderousCaterwaul. ---

Kurloz might be your only friend who trusts your visions. It's nice to have him around, even if he is annoying. Sometimes you wonder if he really should be in your black quadrant at all...

Your mind wanders to the Pink Demon. You shudder, slumping in your seat. You know it's probably nothing, but you can't help but feel something wrong, here. To your surprise, you hear your messenger ping.

\--- began trolling tragicAeons \---

Hello, Mituna.

TA: >

Ah, image macros. How charming.

I really can't stay long. I just wanted to thank you once again.

TA: >thank me?

Indeed. Without you, the game could not have come to fruition.

TA: >go fuck yourself.

TA: >you tricked me.

Did I? I never lied to you about our little deal. You program my little game. I bring your little friend back from the dead.

TA: >i don't know how you consider that "not lying," she's as dead as she ever was.

TA: >and your "little game" is going to kill us all anyway, you fucking monster!

You aren't wrong. Damara is indeed as "dead as she ever was."

And I wouldn't be too sure. Your visions are accurate, but not always precise.

TA: >fuck you. fuck you!!!!!! 34t sh1t!!! fuck! fuck!!! sh1t!!!

Careful now. Temper! I'd calm down. Wouldn't want something to happen, would you?

We both know you're not fated to lose control just yet, dear.

TA: >are you just here to taunt me?

Heavens, no.

TA: >i don't see how meteors obliterating the planet is something anyone could survive.

TA: >i saw it all in my visions. death. destruction. beforus is obliterated.

Indeed. But that doesn't mean you are. Nor your friends.

TA: >what are you saying?

I'm not aware of the mechanics myself, but... Playing this game might be able to save you from this planet's impending demise.

TA: >yeah, right. you're not tricking me THAT easily.

TA: >no way am i playing your game.

TA: >"auntie."

"Oho! Looks like you've found me out."

...Is what I would say if that revelation was news to anyone.

For such a sharp one, you're somewhat slow. Let me reiterate.

Your friend is as "dead as she ever was," meaning...

TA: >what, she wasn't really dead at all?

A point for the boy in the yellow helmet!

TA: >fuck you. why would i believe that? what, she faked her own death? she's okay somewhere?

Who's to say?

Now be a dear and don't fuss with my plans. I know you don't trust me, Mituna.

But I know you know better than to not believe me.

The only way to save yourself and your friends is to play my little game.

Or should I say... YOUR little game.

TA: >...

Which brings me back to my main point. Thank you for making it for me. Truly, I couldn't have done it without you.

Goodbye for now.

\--- ceased trolling tragicAeons \---

You close your eyes. You hate how she gets under your skin. It takes you a moment to calm down, as you can feel your psiionics crackle behind your visor. You have a bad habit of your emotions getting the better of you, which makes your powers act up.

Talk to your matesprit? ==>

That's a good idea. It will get your mind off things.

\--- tragicAeons began trolling galCoolest \---

TA: 

TA: >tula?? you there?

\--- tragicAeons ceased trolling galCoolest \---

Damn. Looks like she's offline. What a time to be away! You sit dejectedly in your seat, wondering about this game. You look up.

On your wall is a poster of your hero, the most legendary psiionic in history, The Pilot. Even as a grub, you idolized him. After all, you shared the same horns as well as the same symbol! The true gemini.

If you were a superstitious highblood like Kurloz, you might believe that he was your ancestor, but only he would believe something as foolish as that. It's all just a coincidence. You run a hand over the poster, gazing at his glasses. You wonder what he would do in this situation. Sometimes, reading his published memoirs helps you gain some insight.

EXPLOIITS OF A PIILOT. THE 2OLLUX CAPTOR 2TORY.

most of my exploits take place across the galaxy, driving Her benevolence's fleet to parts unknown, but one chilly day in the fifth perigee of solar sweep 413, the benevolence gave me a task closer to home.

beforu2 ha2 alway2 had a lone 2entiinel hangiing iin iit2 2ky: the piink moon. my ta2k wa2 two driive a 2mall team two iit2 2urface two iinve2tiigate 2omethiing 2trange. iin the lu2h foliiage of the moon, a2tronomer2 had 2een movement.

ii wa2 curiiou2 why her benevolence would employ me for 2uch a ta2k. ii a22umed iit wa2 becau2e 2he wanted me clo2er two home, for thii2 wa2 when our feeliing2 for each other were fiir2t burgeoniing. that wa2 only the rea2on iin part, you 2ee.

my love, my empre22, her iimperiiou2 benevolence, iinformed me that the moon had become treacherou2 two naviigate two. where once the humble 2ateliite had hung harmle22ly iin the aiir, ho2t two iit2 piink-colored flora, now, iit had become nearly iimpo22iible two land upon. the ta2k, then, fell two her be2t piilot, two me.

when ii 2teered the iimperiial 2hiip toward2 our moon, ii 2aw the truth of my empre22'2 word2. naviigatiion became 2haky. iit wa2 nearly iimpo22iible two land, a2 though the 2hiip wa2 beiing repelled by two liike end2 of a magnet. nonethele22, ii touched down on the 2urface and depo2iited the team. ii had two maroon them there, for the 2hiip could not dock. ii wa2 forced two 2iit iin orbiit untiil the team got back two me.

unfortunately, our que2tiion2 about the moon'2 2urface went unan2wered. when the team reported back two the 2hiip, iit wa2 not wiith iinformatiion, but wiith an iinexpliicable cargo. a lone troll. 

the crew returned two the 2hiip wiith the troll iin tow. he appeared two have been liiviing on the moon for 2ome tiime, and de2piite beiing an adult, a mere 2weep older than ii, he wa2 wa2 untamed, liike a wiild lu2u2.

we had more que2tiion2 than an2wer2, and they kept comiing. for the troll'2 blood wa2 candy-red, unliike anythiing we'd ever 2een. we called hiim the moonman. 

the moonman claiimed two be a prophet, claiimed two have been raii2ed upon the moon by a beiing he called the piink demon, a beiing who, accordiing two hiim, would briing about the end of the world. beiing a man of 2ciience, ii dii2regarded hii2 warniing2. unfortunately, thii2 level-headed rea2on wa2 not 2hared by 2ome back home on the 2urface of beforu2.

2iince then, we have been unable two revii2iit the moon. the electromagnetii2m ii2 two great two overcome, even wiith my canny abiiliitiie2 behiind the wheel of our fiine2t ve22el2. ii doubt, however, there ii2 anythiing of note remaiiniing there.

ii do not regret re2cuiing the moonman, no matter the uproar he cau2ed back home. the iimportant le22on ii gleaned from my tiime extriicatiing hiim from hii2 extraterre2triial home wa2 that even the mo2t reluctant, the mo2t repugnant, the mo2t heiinou2 among u2 de2erve a chance two be re2cued. my team and ii were the rea2on the moonman wa2 2aved.

You close the book. The Pilot's words move you, as usual. Just like the Moonman on the surface of the pink moon, your friends, even if they don't believe you, deserve the chance to be saved. Even if it is through the tenuous trust you place in the Pink Demon's words, you have to try to save them.

You put the Pilot's memoir down, back into its drawer, and stand up. It's nearly time to get back to work! You have other things to do than sit around like this, after all. Even though you'll never be a pilot like your mentor, you have to work hard to strive.


	8. Bonus Cronus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wve couldn't avoid him forevwer...
> 
> [Author's note: Leave a comment with what you think and what character you'd like to see next! The options are:
> 
> LATULA  
> DAMARA  
> RUFIOH  
> 

Your name is.

Your name is...

Ugh.

Look. I don't want to do this. I know YOU don't want to do this. Let's just grit our teeth and make it through, okay? I promise it'll be over soon.

Your name is CRONUS AMPORA. As god's gift to trolls, you spend most of your time LANGUISHING in a HEDONISTIC STUPOR of sopor slime, faygo, and the finest fruits your VINEYARD can produce. That's right, ladies. You own a VINEYARD. Said vineyard is owned and operated by your beloved CULLED FLEET of LOWBLOODS. Two dozen well-trained vineyard operators that you, out of the KINDNESS OF YOUR OWN HEART, put to work making you the world's best grape juice. For some reason, though, your harvest turns out pretty BITTER.

Yet in spite of your LIFE OF EXCESS, you can't help but feel that you're missing something. Something important! That's why you have decided to embark on the same quest that your ANCESTOR undertook! The LOVE QUEST. As a matter of fact, today is the fated day you're set to leave. With TEARS in your eyes, you prepare to say goodbye to your MINIONS, leaving the vineyard in their expert care. You were never actually that good at maintaining the place yourself, anyway.

You speak with a vwhimsical lilt and your online handle is casanovasAdonis.

What will you do?

Bid farewell to your beloved employees. ==>

Shouldering your immense backpack, you step out of your office. You look out over the vineyard one last time, taking a deep breath of the crop of grapes, or as your lowblood employees like to call them, "fragrance pustules." So charming and rustic, they are!

Your right-hand-man approaches you. An oliveblood who's slated to take over for you as head honcho when you're gone.

PORGAS: 5o thi5 is goodbye, huh, bo55?

CRONUS: looks like, fella! vwhen next you spy your old buddy cro, it'll be wvith quads decked to the nines!

Porgas shuffles his feet, chuckling doubtfully.

PORGAS: 5ure, 5ure. ju5t take care of your5elf, okay, buddy?

PORGAS: it'5 a big world out there.

You wrinkle your nose and scoff. Your usually-supportive foreman has always been dubious of your love-quest. Still, he means well, and you're sure his hesitation is born of care for you! You pat his shoulder. Porgas is taller than you, and nearly twice as wide, but he has the disposition of someone half his stature, a nervous sort.

CRONUS: porgas ole buddy! you shoulndt wvorry about me. i can take care of myself!

Porgas laughs again, the same unsure, nervous chuckle. You roll your eyes, walking towards where your lusus is stabled.

CRONUS: i suppose this is goodbye my friend! i shall newver forget the likes of you all!

You wave to your now-former employees, who all wave back, their expression matching Porgas's, doubtful support.

AYYMEE: dOn't fEEl bAd If yOU hAvE tO cOmE bAck, crO!

A yellow-blooded employee says kindly. You scowl. You appreciate that they care about you, but really! Some support would go a long way!

You invite your lusus, a pale white floating seahorse, from the stable where he prefers to sleep. You pat his snoot as you climb onto his back and ride away from the vineyard, for good. As he floats gently down the dirt path towards town, you pull your ancestor's diary from your backpack and begin to read.

3rd perigee, spring, day 16.

emergin from the sea wwas real invvigoratin. i nevver kneww the surface had such wwonders. before, i alwways thought it wwas a barren, boring place! that's wwhy i tried to build all those doomsday machines n wwhatall. i guess i don't regret tryin to kill the surface-dwwellers, since it wwas a wwiggler-hood growwin experience for me, but i'm glad i didn't pull it off.

my lovve quest is goin great. i stopped into a towwn called hivvefree, the place is glubbin packed wwith lowwbloods. easy pickins. not that i go for the loww hanging fruit. not that there's anythin wwrong wwith lowwbloods. haha.

Ah, the trusty journal of your ancestor, The Vvagabond. A traveling lover, a veritable troll Don Juan! An Eridan-Juan, if you will.

According to himself, at least.

You stop reading as you see the city skyline breach the horizon. You've been to the city, often, of course, it's not actually that far from home, but you figure it's a good place to get started on your love-quest. You approach the city gates, and the bored-looking attendant, a short tealblood, opens the gates for you.

TALOHS: HEy, cro.

CRONUS: hey talohs!

CRONUS: listen im kind of on a special errand today.

TALOHS: YEah? WEll im on a special errand too. ITs called opening and closing the gates, just like always, please leave me alone.

CRONUS: you're such a card, tal. but seriously, do you knovw wvhere a fella like me could meet some cuties? i'm kind of on a lowve quest.

Talohs regards you with abject disgust. You waggle your eyebrows cockily. Maybe you could get a pitch thing going with this half-pint security guard! Talohs, to your shock, shuts the gates suddenly.

TALOHS: ON second thought, i probably shouldnt let in your element.

You gawk at him. Your love-quest is in jeopardy already?!

CRONUS: vwhat do you mean "my element?" let me in! i'wve entered the city hundreds of times!

TALOHS: HUndreds of times too many, imo.

Looks like this cheeky teal isn't flirting. This is just good old-fashioned genuine hinderance! Being a jerk, not being a jerk with flirtatious intent! But you can't lose hope! Your love-quest is going to face adversity, you knew that to begin with.

Consult journals for love-quest instructions. ==>

You seem to remember something similar happening to The Vvagabond... Ah! Here it is.

3rd perigee, spring, day 34

bad newws. got kicked out of hivvefree. turns out the gal wwho i thought wwas flush flirtin wwas actually the matesprit of the magistrate. despite my highblood standin and despite the fact that hes a lil rustblooded wweasel they ran me outta towwn. fuckin bs is wwhat it is. i shoulda doomsday devviced these fuckin chuds long ago. id go back to the ocean if i didnt knoww deep dowwn i wwas destined for lovve success and greatness.

Hm. Doesn't look like that's any help. You flip around in the journal.

5th perigee, f'wwinter, day 18

this wweird fuckin homeless man kept followwin me around today. i thought it wwas wweird but i thought wwhy not maybe i can muster enough pity for him to auspitize one of his quads or be a moirail or somefin. he said he wwas from the moon. fuckin riot of a dude he wwas. anywwavve, it didnt pan out cause all he wwanted to to wwas talk at me about my destiny or wwhatevver.

he said one day my ancestor wwould find this journal of mine and that i oughtta givve him a message. he said "play the game, but bewware the pink demon. dont forget to awwaken on the golden moon."

evven tho his poem wwas p cool and dating a mutant candyblood wwould be totally good for my cred, i ditched him cause he smelled bad.

That seems unrelated. Though you do always like that passage, it feels like you and your ancestor are connected through time. You sigh wistfully.

TALOHS: WOuld you ever fuck off?? YOu've been sitting there reading your shitty book for like twenty minutes.

You scowl at Talohs, putting your book away, instead opting for a different approach. You'll consult with your love-guru!

\--- casanovasAdonis began trolling glorifiedAdmirer \---

CA: vwowv you unblocked me thats super tight

GA: Against the screams o+f my better judgement, yes. 

CA: wvell thats tight as fuck babe i really need your help right about nowv.

GA: I'm no+t o+ffering my services to+ yo+u, Mister Ampo+ra. Yo+u're crass and rude, yo+u never take my advice, and yo+u incessantly flirt with me, when I've expressed I'm no+t ro+mantically interested in any o+f my clients.

CA: ahaha cant fool me doll i knowv the hard-to-get act a mile and a half avway.

CA: but seriously. i'll pay double for some advwice right nowv.

GA: Hard pass. I just had so+me info+rmatio+n to+ pass o+n.

GA: It pains me excruciatingly to+ say this, and I kno+w yo+u'll immediately misco+nstrue these wo+rds, but.

GA: Yo+u were in my dream.

CA: awv hell no. not your bullshit dreams, come on. ewveryone knowvs those are just fake. you just say you havwe crazy prophecy dreams to drum up business and toot your owvn horn.

GA: Yo+u have an asto+unding way o+f never quite reacting like I imagine yo+u will, yet still inevitably disappo+inting.

CA: that's my charm, babe. *wvink.*

GA: ...

GA: Case in po+int.

CA: look if you tell me the dream then wvill you hear me out and givwe me some adwvice?

GA: Whatever. Fine.

CA: nice

GA: I saw yo+u in the city in my dreams. A land o+f go+ld, a mo+o+n ancho+red to+ a planet belo+w, drifting amo+ng the clo+uds. Yo+u were there, o+ut o+f place, flo+ating absently in the vo+id, but as yo+u passed, the o+nlo+o+kers po+inted and lo+o+ked. They called yo+u the beaco+n o+f ho+pe. Yo+u lo+o+ked as tho+ugh yo+u were o+n the verge o+f waking up.

CA: vwhoa

CA: golden moon... i feel like i'vwe heard that somevwhere.

GA: I'm glad it means so+mething to+ yo+u. Perhaps yo+u'll lend my visio+ns mo+re credence.

CA: haha

CA: nah

CA: but nowv that the boring shit's out of the wvay, let's javw about MY problems.

\--- glorifiedAdmirer blocked casanovasAdonis \---

CA: HEY!!

Well, that was a bust. Fucking slippery gurus. There's hard-to-get, then there's HARD-to-get. You sigh, looking back at the closed gates. You glance at Talohs, making your best puppy-dog face. Talohs recoils in disgust.

TALOHS: TRy again next time, dingus.

You sadly hop back onto your seahorse and float miserably back into the horizon.

As you return to the vineyard, your former employees don't seem surprised to see you. You put your lusus back into the stable, and he gives you a nudge with his snout as if to say "better luck next time, champ."

PORGAS: love que5t didn't go 5o well, huh bo55?

CRONUS: *sniffle*

PORGAS: d'aww. don't worry, bo55! we're all rooting for you. right guy5?

Your employees nod in kind agreement, but their expressions are ones of pity. It wounds you.

PORGAS: you ju5t tuck your5elf into your recupacoon and i'll be by 5oon to bring you 5ome warm moobea5t secretion5 and 5weet wafer5.

Porgas pats you on the head, kindly, smiling. You look up at him, eyes swimming.

CRONUS: vwith the choccy chips?

Porgas nods.

PORGAS: with the choccy chip5.

CRONUS: *vwhimper*

You slink back into your office to lament your failure. You open your phone and scour for someone to talk to to get your mind off things. Looks like the only person who hasn't blocked you and is online is HER.

\--- casanovasAdonis began trolling cruelCondescension \---

CA: meen wvhy is life so brutally cruel?

CC: _seen my CC_

CA: don't leawve me on read!

CA: and don't passiwve aggressiwvely type "seen by CC," jackass.

CC: fuk

CA: vwhy does no one like talking to me?? i think they're intimidated by my impossible charms. is that it? am i cursed forewver to be TOO beautiful? to be perpetually stuck on a pedestal?

CC: noah fence dude but

CC: wtf are you talking about even

CC: is this about us not inviting you to play the game?

CA: vwhat game?

CC: shit

CA: vwe're playing games??

CC: uhhhhhh

CA: meenah, you GOTTA let me play. i'm so good at games.

CC: look all my spots are full ok

CC: ive got 12 copies of this thing and we already have 12 ppl

CA: FUCK.

CA: wvho's playing?

CC: it kind of shook out interestingly

CC: sea theres one dude from every caste lmao

CC: theres 2 teams, araneas team n my team

CA: ooooh, that's a tough choice. i don't knovw wvhich team to pick.

CC: wouldnt worry about that

CC: anywave my team is

CC: me, por, tuna, tula, rufioh, and one of rufiohs buds

CC: and araneas shitty team is

CC: aranea, meulin, kurloz, kankri, horuss, and, uh...

CA: no.

CA: no!!!

CA: not HIM!!!!

CC: look calm tf down okay

CA: i can't beliewve your seadwveller rep is HANSOM fucking FELLOW

CA: hansom is the sleaziest bastard. he's a total wvomanizer!

CC: dont be heterophobic jackass

CC: he didnt choose to be born that way

CA: you'vwe got to kick him out. please.

CC: jfc if youre that twisted up take it up with aranea

CC: hansom isnt even that bad

CA: meenah, please, you havwe to tell aranea to unblock me. i hawve to talk to her.

CC: yeah nah

CC: we 8nt even on speakin terms and if we were i wouldnt do that for you

CA: this sucks. this is the wvorst day ewver.

\--- casanovasAdonis ceased trolling cruelCondescension. ---

As you finish that horrible conversation, Porgas enters with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

PORGAS: here you go, bo55. even heated the moobea5t excretion5 for you.

PORGAS: 5till feeling blue, buddy?

You sullenly nod. Porgas sits down on the respiteslab, patting his lap.

PORGAS: lay down that head, big guy.

Suddenly, something occurs to you. Something a little embarrassing, something you're a little shy about.

CRONUS: hey, uh. porgas. i knovw you're my loyal employee and all, but um.

CRONUS: maybe you and me could sorta hawve like. a feelings jam?

Porgas laughs as you lay your head on his lap. He smiles, sweetly. You can't believe you hadn't seen it in him, before, his kind smile, his loyalty, his gentleness... All the makings of a moirail, right under your nose.

PORGAS: i'd love that, bo55.

Laying your head on his lap, drinking warm milk, the strife of the day seems to slip away. You look up at the oliveblood with big, round eyes.

CRONUS: you think i'm cool, right, porg?

PORGAS: the coole5t, bo55.

The way he says it is impossibly unconvincing. You don't believe him for a second, but oddly, his patronizing doesn't get to you. He just doesn't want to hurt your feelings, and for that, you appreciate him.

===

Good evening, gentle readers.

It's me again! Professor Scratch. Once again, don't mind the clutter in here.

It's come up a few times, now, but, ah. I feel I need to address something. There have been a few mentions by now, and I'm sure, being smart readers, you've connected the dots.

Some people have taken to calling little me the "pink demon." A ridiculous moniker! I should really explain all that so you don't think ill of me. It's all a silly misunderstanding, I assure you.

See, I might have not been entirely truthful earlier. I said once that Meenah was the first visitor to my moon, and, well, that was true! She was the first visitor, so to speak, in that she was the first person to come here to visit. But there was another individual who kept me company before Meenah came along.

This individual didn't so much "visit" as... Shall we say... Crash land? He came on a meteor that struck my moon, you see. Ruined my garden! But he came in the form of a wiggler, with lovely candy-red blood.

I raised him as my own, you see. And do you know what he did in return? He tried to flee! Once he saw my plans and designs, he grew to hate me.

I tried to reason with him! He tried making all kinds of fuss, trying to get people down on Beforus to come rescue him, so I made it a little more difficult for crafts to land on my lunar surface. You remember. The story of the Piilot.

But despite my best efforts, he managed to flee. It was a pity, really. I warned him! The world wasn't ready for him, yet. They called him such names! Moonman. Redblood. Sigh... My poor boy.

Meenah, of course, is the exception to my little rule. The spacecraft I gave her is capable of circumventing the jamming effect I have on other crafts, you see, so she can come and go safely.

So, you see, any mention of this "pink demon" business is just a nasty rumor spread by a misguided boy! The ravings of a literal lunatic! Don't mind them, I assure you you have nothing to worry about, and I'd appreciate if you, dear reader, could treat these nasty rumors and names with a modicum of skepticism!

I'm sure my wayward moon man won't feature heavily in this tale, after all. Not a chance.

Anyway, if you were wondering, Meenah has been staying here with me for the past few perigees. For those keeping score, again, it has been six perigees since she first visited, and six perigees until they are destined to play. Meenah and Aranea have both amassed their respective teams, and on the surface, they appear to be ready to play! But six perigees remain until this comes to fruition, due to several monkey wrenches tossed into the mix!

For starters- And this was an oversight on my part- Meenah's copies of the game I bequeathed her are presently at her old hive, the former imperial palace. All twelve discs sit in her respiteblock, gathering dust. I cannot replicate the discs, unfortunately, because the rapscallion who helped me code the things isn't cooperating any more. No matter, though. There were only ever meant to be twelve.

I hope that this helps everyone get up to speed on things. Everything will come to fruition in time.

And please. I can't stress this enough.

You can trust me.


	9. INTERMISSION: "Moonman's Message"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who's this asshole?
> 
> TW: blood, knives
> 
> [Author's note: Leave a comment with what you think and what character you'd like to see next! The options are:
> 
> LATULA  
> DAMARA  
> RUFIOH]  
> 

HI. MY NAME IS PROFESSOR SCRATCH. I'M A PRETENTIOUS BITCH, BLUH BLUH! I LOVE TELLING LONG-WINDED STORIES AND BOTHERING PEOPLE JUST TRYING TO LIVE THEIR LIVES, MESSING WITH THE VERY FATES THEMSELVES TO SUIT MY NEEDS!

JUST KIDDING.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT *SHE* TOLD YOU ABOUT ME, OR ANYONE, FOR THAT MATTER, BUT IT'S ALL LIES. IT'S ALL A BUNCH OF BULLSHIT.

YOU'RE NOT WEARING A WIRE, ARE YOU??

JUST CHECKING. YOU CAN NEVER BE TOO CAREFUL.

ANYWAY.

HELLO. I WON'T BE HERE FOR LONG, I'M JUST RELAYING A MESSAGE, PUTTING THINGS INTO PERSPECTIVE, SORT OF. I WISH I COULD TELL YOU THE WHOLE STORY, BUT YOU NEVER KNOW WHO COULD BE LISTENING, AND I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO DO THAT. I MIGHT BE BACK LATER ON, I GUESS, IF THAT'S IN THE CARDS, BUT WHO THE FUCK KNOWS?

IF YOU HAVEN'T FIGURED IT OUT, YET, BY THE WAY, I'M THE MOONMAN. HI. I REALLY WISH I COULD IMPART MY REAL NAME, WHICH, BY THE WAY, I HAVE. I RESENT THAT SHITHEAD FOR GIVING ME THAT STUPID NICKNAME, BUT IT'S WHAT EVERYONE KNOWS ME BY AT THIS POINT, SO WHATEVER.

I'LL KEEP THIS SHORT.

And I guess I'll stop typing in all caps like a jackass? This is better.

I'm also basically garbage at telling stories, but here goes nothing, I guess. AHEM.

Once upon a time, long ago, in a land known as Beforus... There were twelve fated children of the mother grub who would go on to lead lives that would shape the lives of their descendants. Some were known and revered, some were lost to obscurity, but all of them led lives around which the wheel of history pivoted.

Nine of these twelve have since passed away, but three of them remain in the present day, as their work is not yet complete.

Through these twelve, we can see the fates turn, we can see the destiny of this planet, Beforus. The truth that I know was siphoned through these twelve to clear the path for the descendants that would follow them. I put this all into motion after seeing visions in my dreams of another world- Another Beforus, one that lives side-by-side with us, out of sight.

But the Pink Demon did not believe such things. She did not want to envision a world where she could not see, so she dismissed my visions as madness. The Pink Demon is driven by the gaps in her knowledge, she believes her omnipotence is complete except for these gaps. She is wrong. She can only see this world, this universe, can't imagine worlds beyond it... But I could.

She is attempting to circumvent fate. She is trying to keep this other world from us. She is trying to change the course of the future so badly that it will break. All I am trying to do is bring destiny to fruition. Sometimes I think it is tragic that I was afforded this foresight in this timeline and not the future. No matter.

Professor Scratch, as she calls herself, knows one thing about this game that she has worked so hard to bring into existence, one thing that she has never let on to anyone but me:

The Scratch.

Tragic as it may seem, this Scratch is instrumental to the future. Instrumental to everything, instrumental to the perpetuation of the entire universe, but in her short-sighted arrogance, she is trying to stop it. Even in the planet's name is this fate clear, the name that was passed down even before The Empress killed her predecessor: Before Us.

We are the ones who come before, we are the ones who will pass the torch.

But I digress. Understanding this fate is vital, as is understanding the ancestors. I hope to share their names with you, dear reader, so you may avoid the wool being pulled over your eyes by the Pink Demon who I once called "auntie."

The first of these Fated Ancestors is The Imperious Benevolence. Born millennia ago, left to rule her empire, doomed to see it crumble.

The next was The Vvagabond. Driven for his quest for love, he scoured the land, doomed to perish unrequited.

The third is The Prophet. An ancient adherent to the old ways, ways before The Empress.

The fourth was The Mechanic. A hermit who forever remained alone with his only companion.

The fifth was... Uh. Jesus, is THAT what she called herself?? The fourth was the "Punk Duchess of Spiders and Pain."

The sixth was The Prosecutor. The eternal rival of crime, an adherent to the Empress who's faith would be tested.

The seventh was The Grand-Matron. A long-suffering servant who lived for motherhood.

The eighth was Hissquatch. A misunderstood cryptid, a mute troll living wild in the jungle.

The ninth was. Uh. Me. The Moonman. You know my deal. I lived on the moon.

The tenth was The Piilot, The Empress's one true lover.

The eleventh was The Faunamancer. He who controlled lusii with his mind like you and I speak with words.

And the twelfth is the most important one of all. The reason I can relay this message at all. She is called the Mu

That's quite enough of that.

Frankly, I don't think it is cruel of me to want what I want. It certainly isn't selfish of me.

I only wish for a world beyond what we already know.

I don't see what's wrong with stopping The Scratch! I don't see what's wrong with that at all.

My Dear little Moonman would have you believe I am evil for trying to prevent the destined to come to pass, but he would raise these children, my child, to die, like lambs to the slaughter.

Who is trying to pull wool over whose eyes, dear reader?

As I said before. You can trust me.

Let's abscond this dour topic.

==

Your name is SS. Hot diggity damn, do you love KNIVES. You're a real KNIFE ENTHUSIAST. Your collection of antique carapacian knives is so vast, you've earned yourself a nickname: The SWORD SORCERER, a name you share with the humble little storefront you operate.

Up until recently, you were the #1 right hand man to the BLACK QUEEN, known far and wide as the SUPERIOR SERVANT, but you've retired that old name. You quit a long time ago. You figured when you left, your three associates would have come with, but the turncoats stayed loyal to her. The bastards.

You drum your fingers on the counter of your shop. The SWORD SORCERER doesn't actually get much business, on account of the fact that none of your knives are actually for sale. You wouldn't part with a single one of them! The only monetary service you offer is knife-sharpening, but even this is sometimes a bust, due to your habit of stealing the knives you're meant to be sharpening.

Still, no business suits you fine. You're about to stand up to close early when you hear the jangle of the bell over the entryway.

"Welcome to the Sword Sorcerer, I'm the Sword Sorcerer. How can I-" your voice stops dead when you see who made their way into your humble shop. "You." You utter the syllable with as much malice and venom you can muster, which is saying something for a guy who generally speaks with a lot of malice and venom.

"Hey, champ," says your easygoing former compatriot. Standing before you, in the carapace, is your old right hand man, the Designated Drudge. You suppose that now HE'S the right hand man, now, as opposed to being the right hand man to the right hand man.

"Don't 'champ' me, you traitor," you sneer, crossing your arms over your apron. "You got a lotta nerve for showin' your mug around here."

"Whatever," says Drudge, lighting up a cigarette. You clear your throat, pointing to the "No Smoking" sign on the counter. A sign you regularly disregard yourself. Drudge rolls his eyes.

"Tell me what you want before I toss you out myself."

"Keep your shirt on, SS, I don't wanna be here any more than you wanna see me. I've got a message from the Boss."

You scowl. The Black Queen, no doubt. You have no idea what she might want with you.

"What makes you think I want anything to do with that broad?" you ask, taking one of your knives in your hand, testing the sharpness with a finger.

"Money," says Drudge simply.

Shit. She's got you there. Paying rent on this storefront is expensive, and you're not exactly making any cash with your business tactics. You were never much for upstanding establishments. You relent.

"Fine. What's the job?" you say, stabbing the knifepoint into the counter. Your counters are littered with pockmarks from such stabbings.

"Easy," says Drudge, withdrawing a purple envelope, sliding it to you. "Assassination. Your specialty."

Inside the envelope is a photograph, the face inside is of a person you've seen before, and you're surprised.

"Him?" you say.

"Him." Drudge responds.

You stare at the photo. It's a picture of The Clown. The asshole in the purple pajamas. One day, a while back, one of the six kids up in the towers on Derse's moon up and started moving around. Shortly after, another one of the kids floated off, never to be seen again.

"Alright," you say. You shrug. A mark's a mark, even if you do kind of like the cut of this kid's jib. "Why's the queen want to off him, anyway? Aren't the sleepers off-limits?"

Drudge chews on his unlit cigarette.

"Orders came from someone else. Someone... New."

"New?" you cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Lady with a big orb for a head. Wore a pink shirt. Lab coat." Drudge shrugs once more. "She said the kid's gotta go, paid the Boss up front."

You muse on this. Interesting... Things look to be heating up around here for once.

"I'll do it," you say. You take the knife from the counter, slipping it into your pocket along with the photo of the clown kid.

Drudge gives you a nod, turning to leave.

"And, hey-" he says, back turned to you. "We miss you. The Boss says you can come back and work for her again if you finish the job. Think about it."

You don't respond, watching him walk back onto the purple streets. No time to dawdle, though. You've got a clown to kill.

[The Sword Sorcerer then re-lives an encounter from Chapter 6.]

Unfortunately, the job doesn't go quite as planned. The clown got away again, and what's worse, the stupid girl got in the way, too. You sigh, holding the pajama'd cadaver in your arms. You hope you're not in trouble for this one. In the scuffle, the clown got away. Slippery little bastard.

On the bright side, when he left, he looked mighty pissed that you killed his little pal. That probably meant that next time he'd be eager to fight. Good.

In your arms, the girl coughs up... Blood? At least you think it's blood. The stuff is a weird sickly green. Looks like the job's not done quite yet, but the girl's dozed off. You set her down, withdrawing a knife.

"Sorry, kid. Got caught up in the crossfire."

You finish the job yourself, jabbing the dagger right into her heart. Something about this feels weird. Usually stabbing people gets your spirits up! But you can't help feeling dejected, knowing this girl wasn't your mark. Something about this isn't right.

For the first time in your life... You have doubts. Something's fishy. This girl didn't mean anything by saving her buddy, and even the clown is just some jackass minding his own business. Who's the new broad who ordered these kids' deaths? Something twitches in the back of your mind.

"Shit, SS, you're goin' soft..." you mutter to yourself as you take your apron out of your pocket. You slip it on, placing your dagger into the pocket on the front.

You've got to talk to the Black Queen. Get to the bottom of this.


	10. The Love Guru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Porrim.
> 
> TW: death mention
> 
> [Author's note: Leave a comment with what you think and what character you'd like to see next! The options are:
> 
> LATULA  
> DAMARA  
> RUFIOH]

Your name is PORRIM MARYAM, but you're better-known as your online persona, the LOVE GURU. You give advice to LOVELORN individuals across Beforus, who all trust your words by virtue of your INTENSE CONNECTION to the MOTHER GRUB, your lusus. You live deep in the broodcaverns, but you kind of HATE it here. You find it cloying and unsatisfying, a product of the SYSTEM OF OPPRESSION you will lament to anyone who will listen.

Unlike the rest of the Jadebloods, however, you are not tasked with raising grubs nor slurry operations, but the WELLBEING of the mother grub, a job you were raised for from birth by the old GRAND-MATRON. In fact, you are the youngest GRAND-MATRON in history.

Your speaking style is Particularly o+pulent and fanciful, yet do+wn-to+-befo+rus and gro+unded, and your online handle is glorifiedAdmirer.

What will you do?

Examine Respiteblock. ==>

Your room, as usual, is a mess. You're not a very tidy person, evidenced by the clothes strewn about the place and papers shuffled haphazardly everywhere. Still- Despite the clutter, it's homey. Your respiteblock has a hole in its north wall that overlooks the broodpit, where your lusus sleeps soundly. The hole is big enough to poke her head into when she desires companionship, and it doesn't cause a draft because you're so far under ground.

Today is a big day for you, as a matter of fact, because the mother grub is slated to give birth, soon- Not just give birth to a new clutch of trolls and drones, but to a new matriorb. Unlike your sisters, it is your sole responsibility to take the matriorb.

You're a little nervous about this, because it also means the end of the Mother Grub's life, something you don't look forward to in the least.

Visit the Mother Grub. ==>

You walk out of your hive through the hole in the wall and down into the MG's pit. She snoozes peacefully, her countenance calm. You place a hand on her head.

To even a normal Jadeblood, who are outfitted with night-vision beyond that of normal trolls, the broodpits are too dark to navigate properly, which makes you perfect for the task. As a rainbow drinker, you are bioluminescent, adapted to the dark by your own skin's glow and your lack of need for a great amount of sustenance. You're also told that your unique complexion endows you to walk in the sun. Not that you've ever seen the surface.

The mother grub's eyes open, looking at you with melancholy. The both of you share a psychic connection, and she speaks to you, now, inside your mind.

MOTHER: Good morning, my child. You look forlorn. It doesn't befit your beautiful countenance.

PORRIM: Yo+u've to+ld me this is a happy day, but I'm afraid I can't get into+ the spirit.

PORRIM: My sisters are so+ excited. So+metimes I wo+rry I will be the o+nly o+ne to+ miss yo+u.

MOTHER: Such is the way of things, my child.

MOTHER: But they are right to be excited. It is a time of renewal.

PORRIM: But a time o+f death, to+o+.

MOTHER: Only to us, child. Such is the way it should be.

MOTHER: I know it is hard to suffer alone, but that is better than everyone suffering, no?

MOTHER: Besides. You are not alone, yet. There is still time. We have all day, my child.

MOTHER: Go, relax. Take some time for yourself before you come back for me.

You nod. A jade-colored tear leaks from your saltwater bioducts. Mother wipes it away with her carapaced legs.

You walk back to your respiteblock as mother dozes off once again. From the caverns above, there is a low rumbling noise- No doubt the greenhorn jades are mucking something up. You frown, hoping the vibrations don't disturb mother's slumber.

As you step back inside, your palmhusk goes off. Perhaps a client needs some help.

Answer client. ==>

As it turns out, it isn't a client, it's your moirail.

\--- cardioGalitarian began pestering glorifiedAdmirer \---

CG: P9rrim, I understand this is a 6ig day f9r y9u, s9 please d9n't feel the need t9 resp9nd urgently. That said, the matter is time sensitive, s9 please d9 resp9nd as s99n as y9u can, 6ut n9t in an urgent fashi9n.

GA: I can speak, Kanny. What is it?

CG: Thank g9d. I didn't want t9 pressure y9u, 6ut as I re-read my initial p9st, it was clear that this WAS an urgent matter.

GA: I'm sure it is.

CG: I ap9l9gize if I misled y9u in any way, P9rrim, I didn't mean t9 give y9u a false impressi9n. This IS s9mething that I need t9 discuss with y9u urgently.

GA: ...Right.

CG: Well... Actually, n9w that I think a69ut it, it's n9t urgent in a time-sensitive manner, necessarily. Just that I'd like t9 talk t9 y9u a69ut things 6ef9re certain 9ther elements get the chance t9.

GA: Kankri.

CG: My fear isn't time-related, just that perhaps 9thers have sp9ken t9 y9u 6ef9re I g9t the chance t9 a69ut the matter, which is indeed urgent, 6ut n9t traditi9nally s9.

GA: I'm go+ing to+ put yo+u o+n ho+ld. So+meo+ne else is messaging me.

\--- cruelCrustacean began pestering glorifiedAdmirer \---

CC: hey por

CC: wanna play a game w me tuna and latula later

GA: Certainly. I'll need so+mething to+ distract me after the mo+ther grub passes away.

CC: tight

GA: Indeed. Go+dspeed to+ yo+u.

\--- glorifiedAdmirer resumed trolling cardioGalitarian \---

CG: S9, in sum, while I kn9w y9u have pri9rities right n9w, as s99n as they are safely c9mpleted, I need t9 speak with y9u, in a way that takes precedence 9ver that, 6ut n9t y9ur duties t9 the 6r99d M9ther.

GA: Kanny, yo+u're rambling.

CG: 9h, right.

GA: Tell me what yo+u needed to+ ask.

CG: Will y9u play a game with me, later? Aranea is als9 9n a team with us.

GA: I'm afraid Meenah has just asked me to+, first, dear.

CG: Fuck.

GA: Language.

CG: Frick.

CG: I supp9se I sh9uld have expected this. It 6reaks my heart. I was h9ping I w9uldn't have t9 6est y9u in this c9mpetiti9n, 6ut fate has different plans, it seems.

GA: What is the co+mpetitio+n, anyway? Meenah wasn't fo+rthco+ming.

CG: That remains t9 6e seen. Even still, there's quite a 6uzz am9ng the participants.

GA: Who+ is currently playing?

CG: It is six-9n-six. There is 9ur team, the n96le Team Spider6ite (W9rking Title,) and Meenah's team. Team 2.

CG: Team Spider6ite (W9rking Title) is myself, Aranea, Meulin, Kurl9z, and H9russ.

CG: Team 2 is Meenah, Yourself, Mituna, Latula, and Rufioh.

GA: We are both o+ne sho+rt, it seems.

CG: Actually, there is a mysterio+us sixth participant, o+ne o+f Rufio+h's friends. At least, that is the rumo+r. Meenah wo+n't tell me who+.

GA: It co+uld be Miss Megido+.

CG: 9h. It appears y9u're n9t appraised 9f that situati9n.

GA: Pardo+n?

CG: Damara was killed. Quite s9me time ag9, in fact. It was immensely regretta6le, and the details are fuzzy. 9nly Mituna seems t9 kn9w what happened, and understanda6ly, he was t99 shaken t9 divulge anything a69ut it. She was his l9ver, after all.

GA: That's no+t co+rrect.

CG: Pard9n?

GA: I've spo+ken to+ Damara. Recently, to+o+. She's perfectly fine. She is o+ne o+f my clients, in spite o+f the language barrier.

CG: That's 9dd. Y9u d9n't think s9me9ne c9uld 6e impers9nating her, d9 y9u?

GA: If they have, they've been do+ing an impeccable jo+b. She sends me pho+to+s, to+o+, o+ccasio+nally.

CG: I will have t9 ask Mituna a69ut this. This d9esn't seem like s9mething he w9uld 6e mistaken a69ut.

GA: I am sure it is so+me misunderstanding.

CG: Pr96a6ly. I'm still sad y9u're n9t 9n my team, 6ut if anything happens, we can pr96a6ly kick s9me9ne t9 make r99m f9r y9u.

GA: I appreciate it, Kanny. I must take my leave no+w, tho+ugh. Make sure to+ scrub yo+ur o+ral bo+nes.

CG: Ugh. Fine.

\--- cardioGalitarian ceased trolling glorifiedAdmirer \---

You're not sure if it's just procrastination, but something doesn't seem right about this Damara business. You know she's alive, unless dead people can somehow require love-advice and operate palmhusks. You've even heard her voice recently. Perhaps you should ask her.

\--- glorifiedAdmirer began trolling anatanoAkuyaku \---

GA: Damara, go+o+d mo+rning. I kno+w I do+n't generally message my clients first, and if yo+u respo+nd yo+u wo+n't be billed fo+r a sessio+n, there was just so+mething I wanted to+ clarify briefly.

\--- glorifiedAdmirer ceased trolling anatanoAkuyaku \---

No response. She was always detached. Might as well ask Mituna, since he's in the middle of all this. Your nose wrinkles. You don't dislike Mituna, you've just never seen eye-to-eye with him.

Above you, another rumble is heard. Your respiteblock shakes a little. After you're finished up, you should really head up there and tell the Jadebloods to stop messing around. Caves are dangerous, and no one wants a cave-in.

\--- glorifiedAdmirer began trolling tragicAeons \---

GA: Mituna, go+o+d mo+rning. I kno+w I do+n't generally message my clients first, and if yo+u respo+nd yo+u wo+n't be billed fo+r a sessio+n, there was just so+mething I wanted to+ clarify briefly.

TA: >be me

TA: >get called "client" by a husk-sex operator

TA: >MFW

TA: >

GA: Glad we're o+n the same page.

GA: Do+ yo+u think yo+u can o+verco+me yo+ur crippling fear o+f so+cializing like a no+rmal tro+llan being and answer my questio+n?

TA: >only if you can overcome your crippling fear of not being a huge bitch.

GA: The go+ds kno+w I will try.

GA: Kankri info+rmed me that yo+u believe Damara Megido+ to+ have died.

TA: >wow.

TA: >straight for the jugular, huh?

TA: >yes. she's dead. forever, apparently.

GA: That is at o+dds with what I kno+w to+ be true. She and I have spo+ken many times in the past sweep alo+ne.

It's a long moment before Mituna speaks again.

TA: >who have you been talking to?

TA: >are you in cahoots with the pink demon?

TA: >what the fuck is wrong with you? can't i mourn my dead matesprit in fuck1ng p3ace withtourt Y0U M3DDL3R5 M3DDL1NG 1N MY M3DDL350M3 M07H3RFUCK1NG FL1PP0U7 8U51N355??!?!

GA: Mituna. Please calm do+wn. Pink Demo+n?? What?

TA: >5HU7 7H3 FUCK UP 480U7 7H1NG5 Y0U D0N'7 KN0W 4NY7H1NG 480U7!!!!!!!!

\--- tragicAeons blocked glorifiedAdmirer \---

Wow. Okay. You're probably at fault for that one, bringing up something sensitive out of the grey like that. Still, you're convinced of one thing: Mituna definitely BELIEVES that Damara is dead. He's also right about you being a meddler, but you don't take it as the condemnation he meant it as.

You're pulled from your thoughts by another rumble in the caverns above you. Okay, they really need to cut it out up there, seriously! You huff.

Take care of business. ==>

You take a look out of the hole in your hive wall. Enough distractions. The mystery about Damara can wait, and so can those rambunctious jadebloods. You slowly slip on a pair of rubber gloves and withdraw your heavy-duty surgeon's scythe. It looked much more at home in the hands of your ancestor and mentor, the Grand-Matron, but you suppose you're the Grand-Matron, now.

PORRIM: Mother. It's time.

You say those words, but you don't dare wake her. You don't want her to be awake for what's to come.

Removing a matriorb from a mother grub requires a delicate touch, but it still requires the death of the existing mother grub. You take no pleasure in this, having to kill your own mother, but you also know it has to be done and that it is her wish. You are responsible for her progeny, and the perpetuation of your very species.

What's more, this operation is particularly delicate, as there is no virgin mother grub to harvest from, either. The one you see before you is the last of her kind. If you fail this task, your whole species could be without means of reproduction. You swallow, the pressure suddenly mounting. Still. You are confident. After all, you've trained your whole life for this.

Unfortunately, and all of a sudden, the biggest rumble yet tears through the caverns, but this time, it's nearly deafening. You cry out, losing your balance, falling on your ass as, with wide, terrified eyes, the ceiling above the mother grub cracks.

PORRIM: MO+THER!

You cry out, and mother opens her eyes blearily. She doesn't look alarmed in the least as another rumble strikes the ceiling.

PORRIM: GET O+UT O+F THE WAY!

You plead, but mother doesn't move. She looks up from the pit at you, her mandibles twisting into what you know is one of her smiles. You hear her words in your mind.

MOTHER: It is time, child.

With a moment of terrible realization, you realize this was what she had meant. She hadn't sent you away earlier to get your mind off things. She'd known this was coming.

The ceiling finally gives way and you're thrown back deeper into your respiteblock as a massive meteor strikes into the earth, causing a cave in. You can only watch in horror as mother is buried under the tons of rock and molten meteorite crush her to death. For the first time in your life, your mind goes silent. Mother is gone.

You crawl out of the cavern, looking upwards. There is a hole in the ceiling, now, nearly fifty feet across, the wreckage clear as day. Meteors, one after another, had pounded holes into the ground, collapsing the ceiling of every level of the broodcaverns. Above you, you hear panic from the Jades.

For the first time in your life, high above you, above the wrecked ceilings of your long-time home, you can see the sky, more meteors streaking across the starry sky.

No time to dwell. You walk up the stairs to the level above you, scythe in hand. Now, instead of a surgical tool, it is a symbol of your leadership, and it's time to step up.

PORRIM: Jades!

You bellow as you emerge into the wreckage of the floor above you. The Jadebloods freeze and look towards you, wielding the Grand-Matron's scythe.

PORRIM: Mo+ve! Get everyo+ne yo+u can who+ is injured and make yo+ur way upward. We need to+ get new shelter befo+re the sun co+o+ks yo+u all alive.

An older jadeblood speaks up as her peers move to follow your command.

NUUBIS: Grand-Matron, the meteor- Is the Mother Grub alright?

Your jaw clenches. This is no time to show fear, but it's no time for convenient lies, either.

PORRIM: She was crushed before I could get to her.

Nuubis swallows thickly, her eyes widening. Still, you both know immediate safety is more paramount than fear, right now.

===

Hours later, the jadebloods who survived the blast emerged onto the surface. A surface you've never seen before. Funny, you always thought it would be different, that you'd someday emerge to see it in better circumstances. No time to dawdle.

PORRIM: Nuubis, do+ yo+u kno+w a place we co+uld seek shelter? It's no+t safe in the caverns any mo+re.

Indeed, what were once the broodcaverns was now a large hole in the ground.

NUUBIS: There is a h-hotel about a mile that way. I'll take the jades who can't walk in the scuttlebuggies.

PORRIM: Yo+u heard her! If yo+u're injured, take the cargo+ scuttlebuggy with Nubis. If yo+u can walk, we are mo+ving to+ward the ho+tel in that directio+n!

You hate how easy it is to take the lead. You bang your scythe on the ground, and ass the jadebloods mill down the road or to the truck, you take one last look down into the caverns-turned-pit.

Everything hits you at once. Not only is your home gone... But so is Mother.

None of your fellow Jades say a word as they watch you collapse to your knees and weep.

Be Meenah. ==>

It's been a while since you've been Meenah! Feels nice, back in the saddle, you think, especially after all that nonsense.

You've been staying at auntie's house on the moon for perigees, now, and honestly, it rules. You dind't get out much before, so being in hiding isn't too big a deal for you, plus the reception here is killer, so talking to your friends is easy to organize for the game.

There's just... One problem. You have a full team of players, but you now realize you don't have access to the game discs, which you foolishly left inside your hive. They're probably still sitting in your room, but it's not like you can go back to grab them without HER noticing! You'll have to get them some other way, or better yet, get someone ELSE to do it for you. After all, that's what an heiress is all about!

But who? Who do you trust enough to grab the discs? Who's dumb enough to be willing to go into a palace crawling with guards and sneaky enough to grab the game for you?

You've got it!

\--- cruelCrustacean began trolling capaciousTool \---

CC: yo hors

CT:8=D < Ah, my most e%alted and beloved heiress apparent! Or should I say former heiress apparent. I suppose that is regrettable, but does not change your noble personage. As such, I humbly bow to you.

CC: nice

CC: lets cut the shit tho you tend to get long winded and i just need a favor not any yakkin

CT:8=D < Of course, your hayness.

CT:8=D < I mean, your highneighs.

CT:8=D < I mean. Oh, fiddlesti%.

CC: yeah this is the kinda shit id love to cut down on

CC: i need you to go grab somefin from my hive. i kno you live close, i used to sea you when i visited aranea.

CT:8=D < Heavens, yes. Though I would make the trek on hoof for days and nights if it meant I could do you a favor. Seeing you when you visited my neighbor was a delight every single time.

\--- cruelCrustacean muted capaciousTool \---

CC: mhm

CC: anywave

CC: i need you to go to my palace and nab somefin from my room

CC: its not gonna be easy tho

CC: youre gona have to sneak past the empress's drones to snag them

CC: what i need to grab is 12 discs in my room, its up the stairs as you enter.

CC: cant miss it, its just past the 2 story tall statue of me

CC: the discs are all on my computer chair where i left em

CC: capiche?

CC: ...

CC: o right lol

\--- cruelCrustacean unmuted capaciousTool \---

CT:8=D < I must admit, o fine and noble heiress, that I am a bit conflicted. I said I'd do anything for you, but I daren't disobey the likes of the empress, either. No offense intended, of course, my good lady, but you do not presently outrank her.

CC: its not disobeyin she wont mind a bit

CC: she aint gonna miss em

CC: plus if i dont get those discs we cant play the game and thats important yeah

CT:8=D < Oh, too true! Regrettably, I am also on Aranea's team, it seems, and not that of the splendid heiress...

CT:8=D < Perhaps I could be persuaded if you made a place for me on your team?

CC: uh sure idc

CC: youre more shrewd than i thought zahhak

CT:8=D < Your compliment tickles me to the boner, your hayness! I won't let you down. I'll have those discs in a jiffy.

\--- capaciousTool ceased trolling cruelCrustacean \---

You hope that squares that away. You've got no idea if Horuss can do this or not, but if he's willing, might as well give him the chance to prove himself! He kind of creeps you out, but he's reverent in the way that really pumps up your ego, so he's tolerable. Professor Scratch pokes her enormous head around the corner.

SCRATCH: Have you discovered a way to retrieve the discs?

MEENAH: on it

MEENAH: yo i meant to ask how do you get alternian food all the way up on this moon

MEENAH: i thought the plants here were inedible

SCRATCH: A wonderful question!

SCRATCH: The process is called "alchemization," and-

MEENAH: changed my mind idc

MEENAH: my eyes glaze over at words that big

SCRATCH: Understandable.

MEENAH: just five perigees until we play this game huh

MEENAH: i bet youre wrong and we play it this month

SCRATCH: Hee Hee Hee, perhaps! I suppose you'll have to work hard to find out.

MEENAH: im just gettin worried

MEENAH: meteors are hittin the planet a shell of a lot arent they

MEENAH: theres like two strikes per day down there

SCRATCH: Yes. Soon enough, they'll begin to hit the moon, too.

MEENAH: shit reely??

MEENAH: thats like those apocalypse movies n shit

SCRATCH: Oh, yes! Exactly, in fact.

SCRATCH: I might have left a detail out of my primer on the game.

SCRATCH: You see, the game also affords escape from the meteors that are coming down.

MEENAH: wh

MEENAH: fuck really???

MEENAH: jesus i thought it was just going to get me away from the empress

SCRATCH: Oh, no. The friends you're taking with you will be saved meteor-armageddon.

MEENAH: god...

MEENAH: thats heavy af

SCRATCH: Indeed, Meenah. But take heart! You'll be in a world all your own. You never liked the population, anyway, did you?

MEENAH: pft nah fuck em

SCRATCH: Are you going to tell your friends?

MEENAH: probs

MEENAH: not yet tho

MEENAH: maybe once the meteors start gettin worse

SCRATCH: Shrewd.

MEENAH: yo totally unrelated auntie but

MEENAH: why do you have a guest room

SCRATCH: ...Pardon?

MEENAH: i mean youve never had a visitor here right

MEENAH: so why do you have a guest room at all

SCRATCH: Oh, I built it knowing you'd one day need to stay here, obviously.

MEENAH: yeah but like

MEENAH: whys it got someone ELSES stuff in it??

SCRATCH: ...

SCRATCH: No one else has ever lived there. What are you referring to?

MEENAH: theres this dudes journal

MEENAH: under the floorboards, called himself karkat

MEENAH: it was loose so i looked underneath and there was a lil magic 8 ball just like ur head and his diary

SCRATCH: His WHAT?!

You flinch. You didn't think Auntie would get mad about this. She suddenly grabs you by the shirt-collar, pulling you down to be face-to-face with her.

SCRATCH: Show me the journal, IMMEDIATELY!

You push your auntie away, roughly. She hastily calms herself.

SCRATCH: What I mean is. 

SCRATCH: That journal is secret. You ought to show me where he kept it so I can dispose of it properly.

You narrow your eyes.

MEENAH: nah

You've always hated authority figures. You didn't mind Scratch so much before, since she was always honest and didn't look down to you, but something about her outburst makes your blood run cold.

SCRATCH: I... What? Meenah.

MEENAH: nah im keepin it

You cross your arms. Scratch pauses for a long moment, then relents.

SCRATCH: Fine! Fine. I'm sure it's fine. His writing was always a tad long form for you to have the patience for anyway! 

MEENAH: u lied to me tho

SCRATCH: Pardon? No, Meenah, I never lie.

MEENAH: u said no one else ever lived in that room

SCRATCH: I didn't lie. He didn't live in THAT room. He merely hid his stupid little journal there.

MEENAH: what youre sayin he knew id find it so he put it there

MEENAH: where did he live then

SCRATCH: That little nuisance lived in my basement. Had to be kept there for his own good.

MEENAH: huh.

Again, another red flag. "For their own good," was just about the Empress's #1 phrase. Something was too fishy about this.

SCRATCH: Goodness, Meenah. It's getting late! You must be quite sleepy. 

MEENAH: what?? no im not even tired

MEENAH: cmon scratch you can trust me with-

Professor Scratch raises her fingers, snapping them, and before you can protest, your eyes shut and you feel your body falling backwards.

Goodness. That's quite enough of that.

You understand, don't you, dear reader? I had to stop her from reading that nasty little journal. Who knows what lies that lunatic is spinning about me!

Nasty little trick of his, hiding it from me like that. Apparently there are gaps in my knowledge even I don't know about!

But I'm sure they are few and far between, unlike what he would have you believe.

No matter. Things are progressing smoothly, even with his interference. Let's see, now... If I'm correct, Meenah will be just waking up.

Not in the waking world, of course, though.

===

You wake up.

What an awful dream. You were arguing with a puppet with an 8-ball for a head. You rub your eyes, yawning.

Wait. What's happening? You're not in your recupacoon at home, you're on a respite slab in some fucked up purple room! Not only that, but you're wearing the world's tackiest purple pajamas! These things totally clash with your eyes. How annoying!

You walk to the nearby window. You're high in the air, it seems, above a purple city. Maybe you're in another palace, like at home? You walk to the room's door, trying the knob. To your irritation, it's locked.

MEENAH: HEY! anyone out there? lemme out!

To your surprise, the tactic works! The doorknob rattles and in steps... Something.

It looks like a troll, sort of, but it has no horns and its skin is sleek and black. It towers over you, holding a club in his hands.

???: well well lookit this. guard duty aint so boring now. sleeping beauty finally woke up!

MEENAH: who tf are you

???: name's head bailiff. at yer service.

You eye up this "Head Bailiff." He looks like your typical goon: Big, brutish, and dumb. On his lapel is a little pin with a heart on it.

HEAD BAILIFF: listen, im gettin' paid to make sure you don't skedaddle from your tower, capisce? so just lay yer pretty head back down and we can-

Nah. You've been a caged bird all your life! You figure you'll take your chances with gravity, leaping out the window, hoping the slope of one of the many spired roofs catches you so you can slide down!

HEAD BAILIFF: what the- hey!! kid!

HB's screams fall away as, to your shock, you can fly! Wow! That worked out WAY better than you'd expected, holy shit. Good thing, too, as your getaway is now that much easier. You really don't mind being on the run- You have been most of your life after all.

You float to ground level and look around. Looks like everyone around here is the same as the big guy, black shiny carapaces and little beady eyes. Most of them are much cuter than your captor, though, and none of them sport heart-shaped pins. You walk a few blocks, peeking around in awe- Then you see it. Your eyes light up like a kid at christmas.

You rush forth, pressing your nose to the glass of the storefront. Inside the building, helpfully labelled the "Sword Sorceror," are all kinds of weapons! Knives, swords, cutlasses, daggers, everything sharp! You LOVE it.

STRANGER: Don't bother gettin' your hopes up, squirt.

A stranger speaks up, a random carapaced man wearing a hard-hat who's putting bricks one on top of another to build a wall nearby.

STRANGER: None'a the knives in there are for sale. The guy who owns the joint never lets anyone buy nothin'.

You grin.

MEENAH: who said anyfin about BUYIN? hand me one'a them bricks.


	11. Hansom Fellouw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait, who the hell is this, anyway?
> 
> TW: death, blood
> 
> [Author's note: Leave a comment with what you think and what character you'd like to see next! The options are:
> 
> LATULA  
> DAMARA  
> RUFIOH]

Your name is HANSOM FELLOUW. You've been a long-time FRIEND AND CONFIDANT to twelve of the most important people in your life for some time, now, and as a matter of fact, you like to think of yourself as everyone's friend! Once upon a time, you lived in the DEPTHS OF THE OCEAN, but moved to the surface when you found your TRUE CALLING: Rehabilitation.

You rehabilitate the worst of the worst, the CULLED TROLLS no highblood wants to take. At the young age of six sweeps, you began the Fellouw Institute for Troubled Culls, a place where even the most down-on-their-luck trolls can come for state-of-the-art assistance. Then, with the help of you and your STAFF (some of whom are formerly culled trolls themselves,) you prepare them for life in the outside world!

Your speaking style is highly ENTHUSIASTIC AND bombastic~!!!!! and your online handle is everyonesBuddy.

What will you do?

Check on your patients. ==>

Nonsense! Today is your day off! Even the most hard-working troll needs to take some time for themselves. You DO love working at the institute, but you need leisure time just like anyone else. You really do think trolls of all castes aren't that different- Even if you have gills and most trolls don't.

Instead, you investigate your hive.

Your hive is a bit of a mess, frankly. You like to think you're an organized guy, but you have to admit, sometimes you bite off more than you can chew! But that's okay. You rely on help from your friends just like they know they can rely on you. You halfheartedly pick up some of your clothes and toss them into the hamper, but quickly lose steam and wander into the kitchen.

Make some grub. ==>

You rustle up some grub. Literally. You take some grubs from the fridge and eat them whole. Dee-licious!

Honestly, you often find yourself despondent on days off. It's hard to get motivation to do things, sometimes, but you decide today you'll spend your leisure time chatting with your friends!

You withdraw your palmhusk and find to your dismay, no one is awake yet. Except... One person.

\--- casanovasAdonis began pestering everyonesBuddy \---

CA: okay listen here mister goody twvo shoes.

CA: i knowv you'vwe been muscling in on my pals, lately, and i just wvant to say.

CA: i'm on to you.

EB: CRONUS~!

EB: WOW it's been a WHILE since i've SEEN YOU~

EB: how's your LOVE-QUEST going, buddy~?

CA: don't change the fucking subject, jackass.

CA: but, uh. it's going fine.

CA: actually, it kind of sucks. i did find a moirail, though.

EB: WOW~!

EB: cronus, i told you pal~ just KEEP AT IT and you'll find love~

EB: who's the LUCKY BEAU~?

CA: oh wvell that's a funny story actually.

CA: it's

CA: GAH!

CA: there you go trying to fucking trick me vwith your buddy-buddy act. you make me sick. you almost had me there.

EB: it's not an ACT, cronus~

EB: you mean A LOT TO ME~!

EB: ALL of my friends do~

CA: vwhatevwer.

CA: if you wvere really my friend you'd giwve up your spot playing this game vwith meenah.

EB: oh GOSH........

EB: cronus, i'm really SORRY, but i already PROMISED MEENAH that i'd PLAY.........

EB: picking TEAMS isn't up to me........!

EB: and um. i don't think it's very FRIENDLY OF YOU to ask me to not play........

CA: ugh

CA: i don't knowv wvhy they vwant to play vwith a goody-tvwo-shoes like you and not wvith me.

EB: don't worry cronus~ it's not like this is the LAST CHANCE we'll have to play with our friends.

CA: ugh! can't you see i vwas just pitch flirting wvith you, idiot? can't you try to antagonize me a little bit or something?

EB: OH.......

EB: jeez, cronus i'm FLATTERED, but i'm a bit TOO BUSY to fill quads.......

CA: you suck.

\--- casanovasAdonis blocked everyonesBuddy \---

You're not sure what to make of that guy. For such a grumpy fella, he sure does message you a lot. Maybe you SHOULD ask Meenah about including him... Yeah! You'll win him over that way for sure!

\--- everyonesBuddy began trolling cruelCondescension \---

EB: HEYA~!

EB: i meant to ask about this GAME we're going to be playing soon, MEENAH~!

CC: oh hey whaddup

CC: sorry cant talk for long big guy im kind of like

CC: well

CC: i think im asleep rn

EB: oooooh...... sleep texting~?

CC: somefin like that??

CC: its hard to explain.

CC: but i can make a sec for you bud.

EB: GREAT~!

EB: so BASICALLY, i was wondering.........

EB: are there really only TWELVE SPOTS to play the game? and are all of them REALLY FULL~?

CC: yup

CC: me n araneas teams are both packed now

CC: why was there someone you wanted to add?

EB: sorta. just someone who was kinda LEFT OUT........

CC: fuck

CC: no

CC: if youre talkin aboat cronus no fuckin way

EB: but he's just SO SAD about it......!

CC: look idrc how sad the dude is

CC: i know you got a bleedin heart for all the downtrodden of the world

CC: but that dude aint downtrodden

CC: he does the down-trodding

CC: i asked you for a reason and not him

EB: i understand meenah......

EB: but if you gave him A CHANCE then i'm sure he'd SURPRISE YOU~!

CC: haha fuck

CC: i wish i had your faith my dude

CC: look how aboat this

CC: if anyone cant play for any reason ill give him their spot

CC: tell him hes on the wait list or whatebber

EB: oh~!!!!

EB: meenah, thank you~!

EB: that makes me feel A LOT BETTER~!

CC: ok but seareously i gotta clam scray. the cops are comin

\--- cruelCondescension ceased trolling everyonesBuddy \---

EB: the COPS.....?!

You'll have to make a mental note to check on her later. You're not sure what the cops are, but they sound like a bunch of bastards to you! You'd message Cronus to tell him the good news, but sadly, he's blocked you. No matter. He always unblocks you within the day.

Tell Cronus in person. ==>

Good idea! His vineyard where he lives isn't far from here. You can take your lusus!

You remember not long ago, before Cronus was so sullen, when the two of you would race your lusii around his vineyard and laugh until the sun rose. You sigh, missing those days.

You head to your garage, where your lusus is sleeping on his comforter. You grin, patting him on the head.

Give Lusus some elk-treats. ==>

Your sea-elk lusus still hasn't completely adjusted to living on land. While sea-elk are amphibious, they thrive on coasts, not as far inland as you live. As such, to make him feel better, you splash a bucket of warm saltwater on his flank and toss him an elk-treat! He snaps it out of the air and nickers appreciatively. You stroke his antlers affectionately.

HANSOM: wanna take a RIDE, big guy~?

Elkdad hastens to his feet, his tail swishing back and forth. His thin legs are well-muscled and majestic and the finned tail he uses for swimming looks in top form! You feel bad that you can't take him out to ride as much as you used to, but you can tell he understands.

You equip elk-dad with his saddle and you climb on, opening the garage door and setting off!

The wind whips your hair and you grip his antlers to steer as well as to keep from flying off Elkdad's back. Soon enough, the vineyard is in view. One of Cronus's employee/caretakers is there to greet you.

PORGAS: han5om!

You hop off Elkdad, who moseys over to the stable to visit Cronus's lusus. They've always gotten along better than you and Cronus ever did.

HANSOM: HEYA~!

HANSOM: is cro home~?

Porgas nods, pointing towards Cronus's "office." In reality, it's just a little hut with a respiteblock Cronus lives in. He doens't actually do any administration.

PORGAS: he'5 5till a5leep. that or he'5 just lounging in bed.

PORGAS: he might be cranky, but we can wake him up for you.

HANSOM: that's okay! i'll DO THE HONORS myself~

You walk to the office, opening the screen door. When the door opens, Cronus perks up from his respiteslab.

CRONUS: Porg?

When he sees it's you, he scowls in dismay, curling the sheets around his head sullenly.

CRONUS: vwhat do YOU vwant?

HANSOM: well, you BLOCKED me, so i had to come HERE to tell you the news.......

HANSOM: i talked to MEENAH for you~!

Cronus perks up again, eyes wide.

CRONUS: and you gavwe up your spot on the team for me?? oh! hansom! that's so kind of you, i don't knowv wvhat-

HANSOM: not QUITE.....

HANSOM: but i DID make her promise to give YOU A SPOT on the team if ANYTHING HAPPENED to another player~!

Cronus considers this.

CRONUS: like a reserwve spot?

You nod!

Honestly, you've been friends with Cronus for longer than any of your other pals. You feel a little sad whenever he blocks you, because you remember a time you both would happily play together as wigglers. He used to be so carefree and full of life. That is, until he discovered quadrants...

Ever since then, he'd been so strange and distant. You've never understood quadrants. You're perfectly happy just being friends! You've never wanted to fill a quadrant at all, just spend time with lots of different people. You always worried something was wrong with yourself, but living like this has always been enough.

But not for Cronus.

CRONUS: thanks, i guess. still kind of selfish of you not to givwe up YOUR spot, but wvhatevwer.

You see through Cronus's facade. He's appreciative.

HANSOM: and with a team THAT BIG~?

HANSOM: someone is BOUND to not be able to make it~!

You pat his shoulder. Cronus grins. For just a moment, you see a flash of how things used to be. Two carefree land-dwelling sea-trolls, friends forever...

But those days are gone. You feel a pang of melancholy.

CRONUS: hey, uh.

You perk up at Cronus's tone.

CRONUS: do you wvant to take a race around the vwineyard again? for old time's sake?

Your eyes get big and round. You nod hastily, unable to contain yourself! You hug Cronus tightly.

HANSOM: OF COURSE i'd love to, cronus~!!

Soon, you're both on your lusii, grinning competitively at each other at the starting line. Just like when you were wigglers, Porgas holds the flag, counting down.

PORGAS: five laps, alright, boy5?

PORGAS: on your mark5!

Your heart races. Cronus looks determined. You're the happiest you've been in ages!

PORGAS: get 5et!

You both lower yourselves down on your steeds, eyes on the track.

PORGAS: GO!

Porgas waves the flag, and you both bolt. As usual, Cronus's lusus is faster, floating ephemerally above the ground, but Elkdad digs his hooves into the dirt to quickly catch up. You're neck-and-neck, and you playfully reach across to bat Cronus upside the head! He laughs, sending him a little off balance, but returns with a playful shove of his own!

CRONUS: looks like your lusus has stayed in shape, but you lost your edge as a jockey, han!

You laugh as you both crest the first turn. Your lusii jostle together. Elkdad snorts.

HANSOM: you're one to TALK~!

You finish the first lap around the vineyard in record time, pulling ahead about one elkdad-length. Cronus isn't deterred, though. You pat Elkdad's neck encouragingly. He snorts again, confidently.

CRONUS: yawvn! i guess i can start taking this seriously, then, huh?

With a burst of speed and a whinny, Seahorsedad zooms forth, pulling ahead for the second lap! You're astonished!

HANSOM: WHOA~!

HANSOM: you're so SPEEDY~!

To your surprise, when Cronus looks back, he looks... Sad. You're caught off guard. Isn't he having fun? You falter for a moment as you watch Cronus withdraw something from a pouch on Seahorsedad's saddle.

CRONUS: it's been real... buddy.

Time slows to a crawl. Cronus tosses the round object at Elkdad's feet and your lusus suddenly cries out and halts all at once, his legs entangled by the net that had sprung from the device. A collapsible net?? You don't have much time to ponder this, as you're forcefully flung from elkdad's back.

At these speeds, getting thrown off your steed is dangerous. The ground rushes at you at sixty miles per hour and you roll, tumbling hand-over-face onto the dirt pavement. You hear a crack and cry out as you land, skidding off the track and thudding against a tree.

You're stunned, but quickly, pain overtakes being stunned. Your horn is broken, you can see a chunk of it lying a few feet away. You don't dare move, your back twisted out of shape, your whole body in pain. You look to the track. Elkdad is squirming, his legs still entangled in the net, one of his antlers cracked off to match yours.

Cronus dismounts his steed, stepping towards you.

CRONUS: you okay, champ?

You don't look at him. For the first time in your life, you're... Angry.

HANSOM: Ghk...

HANSOM: you... TRICKED me.......

Cronus laughs. It's a lighthearted laugh. He crouches, prodding your severed horn. You hiss in pain, the edges of your vision getting blurry.

CRONUS: that's pretty accusatory of you, there, bud.

CRONUS: all i savw vwas your lusus stepping into a pothole and you careening off like a ragdoll.

You can't respond, only cough. You see blood pooling under your mouth, feeling it drip more every time you hack.

CRONUS: pity it had to shake out like this, han. you really should'wve givwen me that spot.

CRONUS: still! can't thank you enough for opening up that reserwve spot for me. meenah wvouldn't hawve listened to anyone else.

You're not just in pain, now. You're... Heartbroken. Cronus grabs your horn and twists your head upwards to face him. You cry out.

From this angle, you can see Elkdad getting to his feet. To your relief, other than his broken antler, it looks like he's okay. He snorts, looking ready to charge at Cronus, but seahorsedad floats into his way. You shut your eyes, trying to shake your head.

CRONUS: this is a bummer. i just vwanted to break your leg or something, but...

Cronus winces. You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking. You're not ready to die, but you have to face it with dignity. But to your surprise, Cronus lets you go, your head clunking against the tree.

You see Elkdad crying out, his voice faint. You muster your last ounce of strength to shoo your lusus away. You don't want him to have to see this. You slump against the tree, throbbing pain overtaking you as you watch elkdad run. You hope he goes back to the sea... He'll be happier there.

CRONUS: listen, i knovw this is shitty of me, but, um.

CRONUS: not sure i can finish the job. blood makes me kinda squeamish. you understand, right?

In response, you cough blood. Cronus laughs awkwardly, getting back onto seahorsedad.

CRONUS: you understand.

Be Cronus. ==>

You are now Cronus.

Well that was awkward! It didn't work out like you'd planned, with some minor maiming, but hey. Your master plan worked out in your favor! And with the added bonus that you got one last race with your old friend Hansom.

You sigh wistfully, leading your lusus back to the stable. Porgas approaches you, confused.

PORGAS: cronu5? where'5 han5om? i 5aw hi5 lu5u5 run off.

You turn to Porgas, sadly. The weight of what happened suddenly hits you.

CRONUS: he...

You pause. What do you tell Porgas? It's not like YOU killed Hansom! In fact, he might not even be dead yet! You can't lie to your new moirail, but you CAN creatively bend the truth.

CRONUS: fell.

Porgas looks shocked, hugging you suddenly.

PORGAS: oh god5, cronu5... ju5t when you reconnected with your friend, and that happen5??

You hug Porgas back, nodding.

CRONUS: i really missed him... i can't beliewve this happened.

CRONUS: to think i'd havwe to wvatch my best friend...

You trail off, sniffling. You feel so awful! Porgas is right, no one should have to watch their best friend tragically crash into a tree during a race. You feel bad for yourself. This might hurt as much as what Hansom is going through. Maybe more!

Porgas ushers you into your respiteblock, bringing you your usual milk and cookies, looking sad for you.

Honestly? This is pretty great. You'd have sabotaged a race like this sooner if you knew it'd net you some cuddle time with your new moirail!

PORGAS: i'll give you 5ome... alone time. i'm 5ure this is a hell of a lot to proce55.

You nod. Honestly? It is. When Porgas leaves, you message Meenah, who has unblocked you. Hansom is to thank for that, too. You wish there was some way to thank him.

\--- casanovasAdonis began trolling cruelCondescension \---

CA: meenah. bad nevws.

CC: uuuugggggh

CC: look i know hansom probably told you about our stupid convo but im not going to give you anything better than a reserve spot jackass

CC: dont think this means i LIKE this either

CA: this isn't about that! wvell. sort of. it's... hansom.

CC: this betta be important asshoal. i'm up to my neck in cops right the fuck now.

CA: vwhat's a cop?

CC: i dont fuckin know but theyre a buncha bastards

CA: noted.

CA: but seriously. i hawve bad nevws about hansom.

CA: he came owver for a race, like wve used to hawve. and he...

Again. You shouldn't lie! You can't betray your friends' trust, after all.

CA: fell.

CC: oh shit

CC: is he...

CC: shit is he okay?

CA: no. i think he...

This is actually pretty hard. All those memories with Hansom from your wigglerhood... Racing. Laughing... Having fun. Those were all gone, now. Behind you, all because of a tragic racing accident. You find yourself tearing up. This is so sad for you!

CA: i think he's gone, meenah. i vwatched him against a tree and i just couldn't do anything. god, i'm such a covward.

CC: oh... oh gods

CC: cronus...

CC: youre not a coward jesus dont talk shit like that

CC: i know we dont sea eye to eye on shit but like

CC: it wasnt your fault

You sniffle, laying down on the respiteslab.

CA: not my fault?

CC: yeah shit like that is just

CC: it happens

CC: you cant blame yourself for it

CA: i think you're right, meenah. it... had to happen that wvay. it vwas fate.

CC: yeah and sometimes fates a bitch

CC: but hansom is in a betta place

CA: you really think so?

CC: yeah

CC: in fact we can all chip in for like

CC: a memorial idk

CC: some kind of... corpse party. to celebrate all the cool shit he did

CA: that's really kind of you, meenah. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to dump all this on to you, i just didn't knovw wvho else to talk to about this. it's really hard for me.

CC: i bet champ. dont worry.

You pause.

CA: soooooo.

CA: this means i can play the game wvith you guys, right?

Meenah takes a moment to respond.

CC: uh, yeah. i guess so?

CC: like i guess that WAS hansoms last wish and everything

CA: nice! okay cool beans, talk to you soon, meenah!

CA: i mean. my door's open if you ewver vwant to offer me some... different sort of comfort.

CA: ;)

CC: uh

CC: look i gotta go for now we can deal w this later.

\--- cruelCondescension ceased trolling casanovasAdonis \---

You feel on top of the moon! For the first time in your life, someone didn't say NO to your advances! Sure, "uh" was still not "yes," but it was certainly a step up. You wonder how long you can get pity from this for. Play your cards right and you might even earn some pity-smooches! You lay back, hands behind your head.

In spite of the tragic accidental death of your friend, you feel pretty great about today. Everything's coming up Cronus.

Be Hansom. ==>

You can no longer be Hansom.

Be Porgas. ==>

You are now Porgas.

Taking care of Cronus has always been a big job, but you never knew this day would come. You've known Hansom for nearly as long as Cronus, you remember helping him build Fellouw's Institute.

You approach Hansom's corpse, your eyes shining with tears. There he is, mangled and bloody, his horn broken off a few feet from where he had come to rest. You take the horn fragment, clutching it tightly as you fall to your knees, sobbing.

Your mind whirs through all the memories you made together.

Be Past Porgas. ==>

You are now past Porgas, eating dinner with your friend, Hansom, shortly after building the Fellouw Institute, celebrating your success in a small way.

HANSOM: i COULDN'T have done it without you, buddy~

Hansom says, sighing happily. You grin, taking a bite of grubsteak.

PORGAS: non5en5e. without you, none of thi5 would have happened! it wa5 all your idea.

HANSOM: and my idea would be NOTHING without YOUR HELP~

You both laugh. The air in the room is comfortable. 

HANSOM: but there IS one thing you could do me AS A FAVOR~

PORGAS: yeah?

HANSOM: see. LOWBLOODS aren't the only people who need HELP and REHABILITATION.....

HANSOM: all power to HER IMPERIOUS BENEVOLENCE, but HIGHBLOODS are often in need of help, too~

PORGAS: i certainly agree.

HANSOM: but since HIGHBLOODS can't be CULLED, getting help can be TRICKY........

You nod. You can see where this is going.

HANSOM: you know my friend CRONUS~?

PORGAS: the other 5eatroll? yeah. he'5 kind of...

You search for the right words.

PORGAS: fa5cinating!

Hansom laughs.

HANSOM: he's a real JACKASS is what he is. he needs SOMEONE to TAKE CARE OF HIM.......

HANSOM: i've got this vineyard that i'm not using. i'm planning to PUT HIM IN CHARGE OF IT, but it's just kind of a ruse.

HANSOM: in REALITY, i want you to TAKE CARE OF HIM.

PORGAS: i 5ee. he think5 he'll be in charge, but really i'll be looking after him.

HANSOM: EXACTLY~!

HANSOM: i know how much you love WORKING WITH YOUR HANDS~!

PORGAS: of cour5e! a vineyard 5ounds 5o nice. 

PORGAS: 5o it'll be like we're culling cronu5 in 5ecret.

HANSOM: PRECISELY~

You both finish your meals, leaning back in your seat.

PORGAS: 5ound5 great to me, han. i can't wait to meet him.

HANSOM: he's a HANDFUL, but i'm sure you'll get along~!

Be present Porgas. ==>

Your hand squeezes around the piece of your friend's horn. You can't bear to look at him any more. You'll have another vineyard employee dispose of the corpse, later.

You silently promise Hansom something, hoping he can sense it from wherever he is, now, but you promise that you'll make good on your promise.

You'll never forget him, and you'll take care of Cronus.

It's what Hansom would have wanted.


	12. Horuss, of Couruss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Horuss Heist
> 
> TW: Suicide ment.

Your name is HORUSS ZAHHAK, and you're on a mission.

Normally, you'd be at home admiring your FINE ART POSTERS of musclebeasts or writing POEMS or working on ROBOTI%, but today you've got a much more noble goal: Break into your friend's house and spirit away TWELVE DISCS in order to later use them to play a VIDEO GAME. Frankly, it will be easy for you.

You speak 8=D Eloquently, with precise infle%ion, and your online handle is capaciousTool.

What will you do?

Sneak. ==>

Under cover of Beforus's searing sunlight, dressed in solar protective gear, you creep towards the palace. The drones normally patrolling the perimeter have retreated inside for the daytime. Good. You deftly traipse towards the palace, identifying the window that leads into Meenah's room, where the treasure is located.

You'll just scale the wall, enter her room, grab the discs, and scale down. Since the drones aren't presently outdoors, it will be child's play. No one will know you're there!

From your belt you withdraw two suction cups. This will be risky with no harness, but you trust your ingenuity. Affixing the cups to your hands and feet, you begin scaling the south wall. The cups take perfectly to the smooth surface. You can't help but chuckle to yourself.

You could have grappled up, of course, or used some manner of flight-machine to reach the window, but those methods draw more attention- Not to mention you've always wanted to take these babies for a spin. Still- Scaling a wall with just suction cups is... Kind of boring. You have to laboriously detach each limb separately, then reach up to climb. For your exquisite physique, it's not even a good workout. You pause to empty your helmet's sweat valves, watching the accumulated musk fall to the ground.

About twenty feet up, the wind gets a little more agitated. Not to worry- Should your suction cups fail, you have claws in the gloves to dig into the wall to slow your descent. Not that it will come to that. You hope. You shudder. It IS quite stressful, being this high. You're sweating up a storm! You have to pause every few paces to empty your valves. Quite a puddle is accumulating on the ground below.

Even still, after fifty feet, you finally make it, sighing as you push open the window- It's unlocked, just as Meenah promised. You slump onto the floor, panting, taking off your suction cup apparatus and placing it neatly under the bed in case you need to avoid prying eyes.

\--- capaciousTool began trolling cruelCondescension \---

CT: 8=D < My e%alted heiress, I have good news and bad news.

CC: hey horuss whaddup

CT: 8=D < I made it into your hive without incident. That is the good news.

CT: 8=D < To think I am in the respiteblock of my heiress's own belonging... Goodness. I will have to find somewhere to empty my sweat valves that does not besmirch your noble abode.

CC: wtf zahhak what are you doing in my glubbin hive

CC: jfc i knew you were creepy but like funny-creepy not cronus-creepy

CT: 8=D < Begging your pardon, Heiress. If you'd like me to abscond, I will post-haste. But... Didn't you want me to get your discs?

CC: my WHAT?

CC: OHHHHH

CC: jeez sorry horuss

CC: im kinda spacey rn

CC: im like

CC: in jail??

CT: 8=D < Zounds! Did the Empress finally apprehend you?

CC: no no im like

CC: in dream jail

CT: 8=D < I am not sure what you mean. So I will simply smile amicably and perhaps await conte%t.

CC: no time to explain champ

CC: whats the bad news

CT: 8=D < Ah, yes. The bad news is that the discs are not where they should be. In fact, much of your room seems barren, and the door has been broken down forcibly.

CC: FUK

CC: they moved my shit uuuugh this SUCKS

CC: look it probably doesnt even matter any more

CC: im not even convinced we should even play this game at all

CT: 8=D < It does seem like a lot of trouble.

CC: its not that its just

CC: the person who gave me the game might not be 100% trustworthy?

CC: its a long story

CC: involving a puppet with an 8 ball head

CT: 8=D < Ah. Yes, such a puppet visited me not long ago. She found my art overwhelming, as some do, and left, seemingly satisfied.

CC: wtf

CC: your art rules dude

CC: i mean its weird and creepy but like

CC: again, cool-creepy

CC: so you met her?? professor scratch?

CT: 8=D < If that is her name, yes.

CT: 8=D < I assumed she would one day come to visit me. 

CC: you did??

CT: 8=D < Oh, yes. For some reason I am a veritable magnet for beings like her. I do not know why, but it's been said I e%ude an aura of void, which things can be hidden in.

CC: ...hidden?

CT: 8=D < I'm not sure what they mean. But clairvoyants and omnipotents alike claim that they cannot see me, my future, or my goings-on. It's uncanny, or so I'm told.

CC: so youre like

CC: blank

CC: she cant see what youre up to

CT: 8=D < Indeed. So she said. And, after her visit, she doesn't appear to want to.

CC: ok.

CC: definitely filing that away

CC: for now...

CC: find the discs

CC: i changed my mind were 100% playin that game

CT: 8=D < I had a STRONG feeling you'd reconsider!

CC: look downstairs. whenever the empress used to get mad with me shed lock up my stuff in a "contraband closet" in the foyer

CC: oop

CC: gotta jet

\--- cruelCondescension ceased trolling capaciousTool \---

Luckily, you planned for this. You slip out of the solar protective gear, slipping into your skin-tight tactical bodysuit. It hugs every curve on your body, like a second skin.

And when you say every curve... You mean it.

You slink out of the respiteblock, taking stock of the situation. Since the drones aren't outside, that means security is heavier inside. You'll have to do some real tactical maneuvering around the drones! Luckily for you, Drones just kind of sit motionless, looking in a single direction, making the job of slipping by unnoticed easier. Just as long as you don't alert them...

You tiptoe down the stairs, past one drone, past two, past one standing watch over Meenah's solid gold statue of herself, slipping behind a pedestal where a bust of Meenah sits. It's a straight shot to the closet- But there's a drone staring right at the thing! Not to mention the fact that you're going to have to pick the lock out in the open... Not ideal. Your brain churns for a solution.

It's a little low-budget, but you grab a stray piece of stone from the floor, and, from your hiding place, hurl it across the room, hoping it catches the attention of the big lug. It does, but instead of patiently investigate the noise, the drone springs to life, barreling into the source of the noise with all its weight, crushing the stone into powder. Your eyes widen, and you suddenly regret not emptying your sweat valves before coming downstairs.

On the bright side, now no one is watching the cabinet. You hastily run across the foyer, every muscle tense, hoping that no stray drone spies you. You flatten yourself silently against the cabinet silently, bracing yourself. When no drone comes to immolate you, you breathe out, turning hastily to the cabinet. Picking a lock out in the open is tough, let alone silently, but... A thought strikes you. Maybe you don't need to open the cabinet OR pick the lock! You could almost chuckle to yourself right now if it wouldn't give your position away.

Instead of go for the lockpick, you back up behind another pedestal. On top of THIS one sits a solid gold statue in miniature of Meenah. Real classy, heiress.

You will have to apologize for this later, but you remove the statue from the pedestal and throw it against the door of the cabinet. Sure enough, the drones take the bait.

Two of them come barreling at the cabinet, smashing the thing between their bodies like so many toothpicks, all of Meenah's contraband falling out onto the floor like a pinata! Some of it is hopelessly ruined, but there they are! The discs! All twelve of them, on the floor! Horuss you're a genius of espionage!

Unfortunately, as you dart from behind the pedestal to grab the discs... You hear a tell-tale whoosh, and you only manage to get out of the way before a drone body-slams the wall right behind you!

This alerts all of the drones in turn, and all of a sudden, the quiet, tense foyer explodes into commotion! You do what you do best- You hoof it!

Up the stairs you run, sweating like a pig, dashing like a madman, running like a racehorse, sprinting and dodging every volley from the drones you can! They're cracking the ceiling, the walls, the stairs, making the whole palace shake, trying and clawing to get you!

Before you reach the top of the stairs, you feel a drone's hand squeeze around your midsection! You yelp, and in a panic, nearly drop the discs! In a moment of quick thinking, however, you open your sweat-valves onto yourself, making your body too slick for the brute to grab! You manage to climb the stairs and slam Meenah's door behind you, but the weak wooden plank won't hold for long. You need to be out of sight when those brutes get inside, and you can't risk sticking inside the room!

You grab all of your gear, hastily shoving on the solar suit, haphazardly applying the suction-gloves before saying,

HORUSS: D=8 < F- F- FORGET THIS!

And boldly leaping from the window.

The door crashes open, the drones bursting in, but they find no sneak-thief. For you're already sliding down the wall with your claws, heart racing.

===

Back home, you collapse in your comfiest recliner, the one with the best view of one of your beloved musclebeast posters to calm your nerves.

\---capaciousTool began trolling cruelCondescension \---

CT: 8=D < I have good news and bad news.

CC: ayyyyy horuss

CC: fuckin

CC: lets make this quick

CC: im in the middle of somethin

CT: 8=D < The good news is. I have the cargo.

CC: SHELL yes i knew i could count on you

CT: 8=D < The bad news is. Some of it was compromised. Three of the twelve discs are operable.

CC: fuckin

CC: ok

CC: this is fine

CC: based on my intel after someone installs the game they can pass on a disc to the next guy

CC: shit thats gonna be hard to work out but

CC: seriously hors you did a fuckin great job

CT: 8=D < I thank you, milady. When will you be by to retrieve them?

CC: aboat that

CC: change of plans. i wont need em till later

CC: so instead youre in charge of handin them out. you keep one. distribute them so everyone gets enough discs

CT: 8=D < Sounds ideal. I will save one for myself, which I can then pass on to you.

CC: perfect

CC: now for real im outta here

CC: thanks again hors

\--- cruelCondescension ceased trolling capaciousTool \---

You sigh. Big day for Horuss Zahhak!

===

Things seem to be progressing smoothly. I can't see the agent Meenah has employed to retrieve the discs, but I can sense that they are no longer in Meenah's hive. I can only assume this means they are in his possession, now.

Meenah is still snoozing peacefully, if you were wondering. It was a pity I had to put her out like that.

It appears that people aren't inclined to trust me. I can't imagine why, I am a very trustworthy person. I never lie, you see.

No matter. Everything will work out. The Scratch will not come to pass, I will make sure of it. No matter who might interfere. I will ensure a better world for these children. For the world they will create. The one that is rightfully theirs.

For their own good.

And you, dear reader, I'm glad you've stuck it out this long, truly. You are a peach, really. I think that reading is a skill that not enough-

Hm?

That's odd. Er. I have to check on something. I'll be right back.

Is she gone?

God. What a blowhard. Listen. She's only going to be distracted by what's going on on Derse for a little while, so I don't have much time. What else is fucking new?

You're probably wondering. "Why aren't you typing in caps any more, pre-scratch Karkat?" Well, fuck you for thinking that. I have some self restraint, is how. Eat shit.

I don't type in caps all the time, you know. I just started doing that to act out, then I never really stopped. I guess it still gets people's attention, but it's also probably why people think I'm a fucking lunatic.

Anyway.

Look, I didn't get to explain all the ancestors last time, and you're probably pissing yourself, dying to know what I was going to say, so here I am, out of the goodness of my heart, returning to finish the job, vis-a-vis ominous cliffhangers.

The ancestors are all super fascinating and cool, and if you ask Auntie about them, she'll spin you a fucking yarn, but save that for later. There are two ancestors Auntie WON'T tell you about.

One is me.

The other... Is The Mummy.

Before the reign of The Benevolence, there was a cult on Beforus. Religion doesn't really "catch on" around here, because trolls are so obstinately-minded, spare of course, the purple-bloods. For some fucking reason. But this cult was legit, as you might imagine. Instead of worshipping some fake-ass dumb god, they worshipped a real lady, who used to be alive, and, according to them, would live again. 

In the final years of his life, The Piilot lay on his deathbed, attended by The Empress. Trolls don't really do the whole "funeral" BS either, unless it's a special case. In the Piilot's case, it was. Instead of dying like a normal person, IE randomly and probably in battle, or from a horrible disease, the Piilot chose to die, and since The Empress was the one artificially extending his life, she wanted to be there when he bit it.

Disrespectful? Fuck you. He was fine with it.

Anyway. The Empress carted the Piilot out to these shitty ruins in the middle of nowhere to let the guy die. These shitty ruins were where The Mummy used to be buried.

See, The Empress snuffed out the cult when she first started to take power, because she saw them as a threat. You would, too, if you had supreme power over life and death, and there was a cult talking about reincarnation as its main "thing."

But The Empress brought The Piilot back to the temple since it was the only place on Beforus where people had ever gone to die. If you ask me? It's a bunch of superstitious bullshit.

But when The Empress ended The Piilot's life... Something fucked up happened. The Piilot's eyes lit up and all the psiionic energy he'd ever built up in his life exploded out of them. The Empress ran for cover as psiionic energy blasted into the sky. It was an event that became known as...

The Last Scream.

And to the whole world, that was that. The Piilot was dead. The Empress kept on truckin'. Life moved on.

But beneath the earth, awakened by the psiionic power of The Piilot... Was Her.

The Mummy.

Do I know how to tell a story or what? Fuck. That reveal gave ME chills.

The Mummy was a humble rustblood. Preserved in wrappings and embalming fluid, prophesized to one day return and one day speak to her ancestor.

This speech is known as...

The Last Word.

We're pretty much shit at naming things.

Anyway, the last word is said to awaken her ancestor to her latent abilities, and it's imperative that The Last Word is spoken, otherwise the Scratch can never happen.

Do you get it, yet? Scratch is trying to keep that from happening. Among other things. She thinks that if she can keep the Mummy from speaking the Last Word, then she starts the game, she'll prevent it from ever happening.

But she's an idiot, because instead, if the Scratch doesn't happen, then boom. Everything fucks up and you've got a doomed timeline. I've been trying to avoid this. 

Uh... Shit, okay. She's coming back. I've got to beat it. See you soon.

Goodness. What a rowdy bunch.

Ah, dear reader, you're still here. Wonderful. I just had to take care of some ruffians and wake up Meenah.

I was hoping you'd stay nearby to listen to a story.

===

Dear Diary,

Today some 8ullshit happened. I was walking home from my daily patrol along the 8each, when I saw something a8solutely hilarious. This guy was lying on the 8each like a total jackass.

I went up to this jackass and kicked him to make sure he was alive. He made the world's most pathetic little squeak and wiggled around. The little guy couldn't get up! I asked him what he was doing on the 8each.

He said that he'd fallen from the cliff up a8ove! What a dope! How does someone just walk off a cliff? Idiot. I kicked him a few more times for fun, then gra88ed him and carried him 8ack to camp. I hope he doesn't die.

Dear Diary,

8each 8oy woke up! He was a mess for a while, and they say he won't 8e a8le to walk again. He seems super 8ummed out a8out it. I told him if he didn't want to lose his legs, he shouldn't have fallen off a cliff! He didn't laugh at that. What a wet 8lanket.

I told him he shouldn't 8itch a8out it so much. He's still alive, after all! In fact, I told him that's pretty 8adass that he survived. He seemed to 8e cheered up and even offered to help the re8els! Hell yes!

He also said his name was... Get this. The "Faunamancer!" What a lame fucking name. I told him now he's the "8reeder" since he's so good with animals. And kind of a stud!

Dear Diary,

Me and the 8reeder went on a raid, today. We emancip8ed a whole camp of "culled" low8loods and set them loose! The caretakers were happy, too. The Empress can suck my 8ulge. What happened to equality? Low8loods might 8e weak and stupid, 8ut that doesn't mean they're not just as good as any high8lood!

The 8reeder is doing well. He can't walk, so we had a wheel-device made for him. He hung 8ack while he sicced a 8unch of choler8ears on the camp. The Empress is going to 8e PISSED.

Dear Diary,

Taking the 8reeder under my wing was the 8est decision of my life. He's living proof that weak low8loods don't need to 8e "culled." It makes me sick imagining the low8loods who get coddled and sheltered when they might have skills like The 8reeder. If someone else had found him, he'd pro8a8ly 8e misera8le right now.

They'd pro8a8ly feed him drugs to 8e happy and suppress his a8ilities. He wouldn't 8e a8le to talk to the animals any more.

I'm glad I found him.

Dear Diary,

They said the Grand-Matron died today.

Good riddance, as far as I'm concerned. 8ut they said she was executed for not handing over the next Fuchsia in line. It's all a 8unch of rumors... 8ut if there's another heiress out there, may8e there's hope yet.

Dear Diary,

We raided another camp, today. The low8loods were all too drugged up to understand what was going on. The drugs they use on them are getting worse and worse. And the high8loods weren't even feeding them.

Everyone thinks culling looks like happy low8loods 8eing taken care of, 8ut it looks like this. It looks like low8loods 8egging for meals, 8arely a8le to think. Fuck the Empress. I hope the 8reeder didn't see too much.

Dear Diary,

They captured us.

They let me keep my journal, 8ut it's not helping me stay sane. They showed up in the middle of the night and 8lack 8agged us all. I can't sleep. I've 8een captured 8efore, 8ut I can't stop thinking a8out him. They'd 8etter not hurt him.

Dear Diary,

It's 8een two perigees in this place. I'm so tired. The Prosecutor, that 8itch, came around and tried to interrog8 me again. I'll never tell her anything.

Dear Diary,

It's 8een four perigees. I think.

They stopped coming. I wonder if they've given up on interrog8ing me. I wish they'd just let me die. I'm not strong enough to starve myself.

Day 713

The Prosecutor came 8ack. Asked her why she's not coming 8y. Said it was 8ecause they got all the info they needed. Wonder who sold us out. 8et it was Tyruss.

Day 1076

Haven't seen anyone in so long. Miss him. So much.

Day 1241

Prosecutor came 8y. Said I'm 8eing transferred. Wh8ver. Asked who 8etrayed us.

She said 8reeder spilled the 8eans.

I don't want to 8elieve her. 8ut she's not the type to lie.

Dear Diary,

They let me out. It's been two sweeps since I've seen the outside.

I know people have 8een in The Empress's prisons for longer than I have, 8ut I was in solitary for all of it.

I read my old diary entries, and it feels strange. I cared so much a8out other trolls. I cared so much a8out him. The Faunamancer. The 8reeder.

I can't 8elieve I trusted him. He told them everything. Tactics. Positions. Locations of other cells. His information helped take down the whole organization, they said in the news. They gave him a medal.

I saw him on TV. He looked happy. Didn't mention me.

They only let me out 8ecause I think they know I'm too 8roken to fight any more. They're right.

Dear Diary,

I got sent a culled troll today. He's my age. I h8 the idea of taking on low8loods after fighting against culling my whole life, 8ut it's not like I can do anything a8out it. The guy is weird, 8ut he keeps to himself. With any luck he'll leave me alone.

Dear Diary,

This guy isn't so 8ad, I guess. They call him the Moonman. I think they sent him to me 8ecause they thought he's a hopeless case or something, 8ut he's pretty smart. Kind of insane, 8ut like. Smart. He keeps talking a8out a woman on the moon.

He shouts a lot, which is annoying, 8ut he's like. Decent. He keeps talking a8out fighting 8ack, 8ut those days are 8ehind me.

Dear Diary,

Moonman wants to visit some shitty ruins, so now we're out here in the middle of the fucking jungle. Worst vacation ever. He said some stupid cult used to worship their shitty god in the temple we're in, 8ut I'm pretty sure this is just where that piss8lood pilot the Empres liked 8 shit.

Dear Diary,

Haha! Fuck! The Moonman was right! Fucking hilarious shit. So. I don't even know where to start.

There was this spot in the temple that we could hear scratching underneath, right? I told him it was pro8a8ly just a squeak8east, 8ut the little maniac said we needed to get it free. He got this wild sort of look in his eyes.

So we took 8ig rocks and slammed them into the ground! It was fucking hilarious! We 8roke the temple up good.

8ut the 8est part- When the hole was 8ig enough, from 8eneath the hole, there was a TROLL. Like a live troll! And when she jumped out, Moonman lost his shit and screamed like a wiggler! What a 8itch!

The woman in there looked crazy, too. She was wrapped in old-ass 8andages, covered in dirt. Like she'd crawled up from inside 8eforus. Her hair was wild, too, and she had this 8ig doofy grin on her face.

I don't really know what Moony's deal was, 8ut after that he said we could go home.

===

I hope this tale illustrates do you the danger of the Moonman.

He wrapped up this troll, known as the, ahem, "Punk Duchess of Spiders and Pain," and by association, brought her into madness with him!

Honestly. Women emerging from the ground?

Who would believe such a thing?

I do hope in the future, if he ever turns up again, you'll be more shrewd about discussing things with him.

But I doubt he will.


	13. INTERMISSION: ACAB

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meenah explores Derse.

Making your way to the Black Queen's throne room is simple enough. Any average Joe can waltz in uninvited, after all. The problem is, the line of people seeking audience with the Black Queen is always long. You'd usually get audience with her using your rank, but you can't any more.

Oh, by the way, your name is SWORD SORCEROR, and you fucking hate lines.

You rattle around the knife in your apron-pocket. You can't just stab your way to the front of the line, but... Maybe no one will notice if you only do one or two people.

Better not risk it. After all, you don't want to get kicked out. This is important.

Something about today is weird, though. The line is going faster than usual. People also look pleased when they leave the throne room. That's odd. The Black Queen doesn't allow audiences with her because she likes giving away things to her people, she allows them because she loves to hear her subjects complain and moan, then boot 'em out. It's how she gets her sick kicks- Miring everything in oppressive bureaucracy for its own sake. But not lately.

After an hour of waiting, you're finally next. There's a big burly guard standing in front of the queen's door.

"Hey bub," you say in your gruff tone. Guys like this only respond to gruff tones.

"Mngh." The guard grunts.

"What's the deal? Ain't the Black Queen supposed to be a mean bitch? Did she suddenly have a change of heart?"

"Ehhh." The guard makes a vague gesture with his hands. This appears to be above his paygrade. Even still- He steps aside as the carapacian before you in line steps out. Your turn.

The queen's main hall is long- Way TOO long, as a matter of fact, probably another feature of her trying to irritate the populace as much as possible. You approach the throne, but sitting upon it isn't the Black Queen, it's someone... Else.

"Good morning," she says, exuding an air of kindness that you're not used to hearing from any official from Derse. She's weird. She wears a pink shirt and a lab coat, not to mention her bulbous head in the shape of an 8-Ball.

"Howdy," you say, unsure of yourself. "Listen, the name's-"

"Your name is Spades Slick," she says.

"Sorry, ma'am, it ain't. Not that that ain't a good name..."

"Ah! Right. I'm getting ahead of yourself. Your name is... Sword Sorcerer, proprietor of the Sword Sorcerer."

"Yeah. Been expectin' me?"

"Quite. I was the one who assigned your latest assassination job. I understand it's going well."

"Sorta. I tracked the guy down, but this broad got in the way."

"Ah! Yes. A spare casualty. Not to worry, Slick- er, Mr. Sorcerer, I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."

"Thanks. Stabbin's my business, after all," you say proudly. "Just..."

"Just what?" the 8-ball lady cocks her head curiously.

"Why do I gotta kill this kid?"

The woman on the throne crosses her legs. She rubs her chin- Or more accurately, where her chin SHOULD be.

"Picture it this way," she says carefully. "There is a set of dominoes. At the far end of the dominoes, the final domino will fall onto a button that will make the world explode."

"Okay," you say, raising an eyebrow. This broad sure is cagey.

"The man you're to kill is the person who is trying to knock those dominoes over. You understand?"

"Right. Fancy way of sayin' he's gonna make some bad shit happen."

"Precisely!"

"What's he gonna do, then? I'm assumin' this domino business is some kinda convoluted metaphor."

The faux-queen sighs.

"You aren't supposed to be this inquisitive." She sounds annoyed. "You've never asked so much about an assignment before. Why start worrying about the details, now?"

"Well-" you start, but the fake queen holds up a finger, silencing you.

"Hold it," she says. "I'm expecting a visitor."

You're about to fly off the handle at this smug bitch, but all of a sudden, behind you, the door slams open, and from behind it emerges a figure, decked head-to-toe in knives. Another figure is behind her, one you recognize readily as the very assassination mark you came here to discuss.

"YEEEEEEE HAW!" the figure shouts, running at top speed towards the fake queen, scimitars outstretched.

Normally, you'd probably have swooned with hearts in your eyes at anyone decked toe-to-tip with knives, but all the knives she's wearing, from the two scimitars in her hands, to the dagger concealed on her ankle belong to you!

=AN HOUR AGO=

Your name is Meenah Piexes, and if nothing else, you're a thief.

After hurling a brick through the storefront and entering through the window, you deck yourself out with all the knives you can carry. You're going to need them where you're going.

You're not quite sure where you are or what you're doing, but you figure since this is all a dream, you might as well make the most of it!

You're loaded up on knives, now, and you're about to leave, when something buzzes in your pocket. You dig around and- Wow! A clam-phone. This dream has EVERYTHING. Looks like someone is trolling you, too. Better answer it.

[Meenah has a conversation from Chapter 11.]

Something distracts you from your stupor. The bricklayer from outside is waving his hands at you.

"The cops are coming!" he cries.

"Cops?" you say, quizzically.

The definition of the word soon reveals itself contextually, for around the corner, half a dozen cars pull up, and, without hesitating, dozens of black-carapaced men leap out and begin shooting the storefront with automatic weapons!

"Shit!" you cry, leaping behind the sales counter. Behind the counter, there's what appears to be a backdoor! Nice. You crawl towards it, kick it open, and slip out into the alleyway behind the store. You dash down the alley and onto the street, peering back towards the storefront, where the "cops" are still unloading their guns. Looks like they didn't notice you! Lucky. Using your brand-new power of flight, you leap into the air! By the time the cops spot you, it's too late. You got away scott-free!

Still- NOW what. You pulled off a successful robbery and are now decked to the nines in swords. What now?

Floating high above the city, you check your clam-phone again. Ugh- THIS guy.

[Meenah has ANOTHER conversation from Chapter 11 with Cronus.]

As you loiter in midair, something comes into view. Attached to the planet you're flying above, on a massive, long chain, is another, even BIGGER planet, also full of the same purple spired architecture. You gaze at it, in awe. You've never seen something to big! And there, in the middle of the purple city... Is a palace.

A grin dawns on your face- An evil looking little grin. You know JUST where to go next to shake things up. YOU'RE the one who lives in palaces around here!

=ELSEWHERE, BUT STILL AN HOUR AGO, OR MORE ACCURATELY, RIGHT NOW=

Your name is Kurloz Makara, and you watched your friend die.

Well... Sort of. The dream-version of your friend. Your REAL friend is fine! In fact, she's visiting you right now in the waking world! You fell asleep soundly next to her. Still, you can't abide murder, even dream-murder.

Over the past while, it looks like your assassin has stopped tailing you. You don't know why, but you don't care. You've been doing some research, and you've discovered where he lives. You walk through the streets of Derse's moon, rounding the corner, and what you see surprises you.

You discovered the name of your assassin: The Sword Sorcerer, and his place of residence and business: The Sword Sorcerer.

At least it'll be easy to remember.

But now that you're HERE at the sword sorcerer, you're dumbfounded to find the place completely in ruins. It looks like the whole storefront has been destroyed. You grab a nearby bricklayer.

"What happened here?" you demand with a growl in your voice. You find these Dersites respond well to aggression, even though you don't think it's your "thing."

"Some crazy broad broke in, then the cops came and shot the place up!" he says hastily. He looks tired. You decide to let the poor guy go since he's seen so much, today.

"I'm looking for the Sword Sorcerer," you say. "Can you tell me where the Sword Sorcerer is now?"

"I mean-" the bricklayer points to the busted storefront.

"No! No, I mean the GUY, not the PLACE."

"Oh! Right. He said he'd try to visit the black queen, soon."

The black queen, huh? You've heard whispers of her name, but you'd never seen her in person. Looks like it's time to pay her a visit. Looking upward, you see that Derse proper is coming into view. You leap into the air, flying towards the palace.

As you fly determinedly towards Derse, you hear something behind you, something oddly familiar.

"Kurloz??"

You turn and spy someone you'd never have expected to see.

"Meenah?"

The two of you blink, facing each other in midair, the moon below, Derse above. You eye her knives, and the dots connect.

"Do any petty theft, lately?" you ask with a scoff.

"HA!" she says, hands on her hips. "You know it. The cops came after me, but I was too quick for 'em."

"Where are you headed with all those?" you ask.

"I'm gonna storm the palace, duh. I want it."

You nod slowly. Looks like this might work out to your advantage. Best case, the Sorceror is there and you can off him, worst case, Meenah takes the place over, and Sorceror comes to YOU.

"I want in," you say.

"No wave, beach! Get your own palace."

"I mean I want to help you," you clarify. Meenah grins at this. She extends a manicured hand and you shake on it. Looks like you both have a palace to storm.

=PRESENTLY, BY WHICH I MEAN IN A LITTLE BIT OF TIME, BUT ALSO THE ORIGINAL TEMPORAL POV=

You are now Professor Scratch.

Which is to say, I am me.

The two ruffians burst in just when I expected them to. Slick looks dumbfounded, amusingly so, his eyes wide, his poor brain squirming to take it all in. Meenah and Kurloz, on the other hand, have fallen directly into my trap.

"It appears you failed to kill the clown, Slick." I don't correct myself on his name. I suspect he will take it on as his own moniker any moment now.

"Not to worry. This is preferable."

I snap my fingers, and behind the two interlopers, the doors slam shut.

Meenah, who was approaching so hastily before, upon seeing me, slows to a halt, completely taken aback.

"Auntie?" she says.

It is regrettable, but it seems my trust with Meenah has finally run out. I would have loved to include her in my plans, but it seems those who I try to take under my wing invariably betray me. Still. No matter. Her pause is plenty for one of my trusty guards to bonk her on the head.

Kurloz, on the other hand, is not dissuaded. He is downright livid, as a matter of fact. Full of Rage, he opens his mouth and emits a bloodcurdling scream. Luckily for me, I do not have ears, but unluckily for me, he is still running towards me with a knife of his own in-hand.

"That won't do," I say, my words drowned out by the boy's incessant shouting.

What happens next, while uncanny, is to be expected.

Kurloz opens his jaws like a snake, unhinging his whole mouth uncannily, his throat reverberating in the way only he can, preparing for the attack not even he knows he is able to muster: The Last Honk.

It is a caterwaul so horribly loud and rending to the ear that anyone closeby is sure to be rendered deaf at the very least, and dead at the very worst.

Since I am but a puppet, I have very few means of self defense. My arms are floppy and full of stuffing, you see. So all I am able to do is snap my fingers, and suddenly, the boy collapses, snoozing peacefully, before he is able to unleash the honk.

Two down.

The final victim is, sadly, Slick. I would have liked to make use of him more, but, inexplicably, he failed in his task.

"Take them to a cell," I tell the guard. The guard bops Slick on the head and all three of them are carried away. I'll deal with them, soon.

It is a pity. Meenah will probably see me killing her friend, and when she wakes up, she will no doubt try to make her escape from my moon. It's unfortunate that everything ended up this way, but in the end, she and her friends, Kurloz included, will thank me.

=ONE HOUR LATER=

You are now Meenah Piexes. You groan as you sit up. The last thing you remember is seeing Auntie sitting on that throne, then a dull thud. Now...

Shit.

You're in a cell.

This isn't the first time you've seen the inside of a jail cell. Feferi used to lock you up when you made rebellious Chittr posts, but that was over petty things. This is serious. To one side is Kurloz, who is face down and motionless, but breathing. Asleep. Looks like he's having a bad dream, too. He's weeping.

In the corner, throwing pieces of stone at the wall, is the little knife man, eyeing you with daggers in his gaze.

"What?" you say incredulously.

"You stole my knives," he says coldly. Realization strikes you.

"OH!" you laugh, smacking your forehead. "YOU'RE the guy. The Sword Sorceror. Small dream world!"

"Tch," the little man scoffs. "That ain't my name any more. I'm a criminal. An outlaw. Call me..." He pauses dramatically. "Slick. Spades Slick."

When you're not wowed by his new moniker, he sighs.

"Guess it doesn't really matter much," he says. "Derse slammers are the worst of the worst. Ya can't get out no matter-"

Your clam-phone vibrates in your pocket. Looks like the guards didn't confiscate that. Nice!

"Hol up," you say. Slick grumbles to himself.

[Meenah has a conversation from Chapter 12 with Horuss.]

As you read Horuss's fascinating news, you hear something from outside the cell. The door swings open, revealing... A tiny little man. You cock your head to the side, but Slick shouts before you can respond.

"Holy shit!"

"The Chief Deskjockey, at your service!" the cheerful little man squeaks in a happy tone of voice. Slick grabs the little fella, pulling him into a tight hug. Looks like they know each other.

"CD, you fuckin' bastard," Slick gives the little guy a noogie.

"We all pitched in, we're gettin' you sprung outta here!" the Deskjockey says.

"For... For me?" Slick says, misty-eyed. "You three are gonna get it for this. You know dat, right?"

"Of course," Deskjockey says forlornly. "But we couldn't abandon you, SS, not in a million years!"

"Uh-" you interject, coughing. You sling Kurloz over your shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt the cute li'l reunion, boys, but. If we're leavin', we better make tracks."

The reunited duo nods, seeming to understand. The hall outside is empty, and CD speaks in a hushed voice.

"Head out that way and you'll be out in no time!" He takes the scimitars you stole from earlier out of a bag on his back. He hands one to you, and one to Slick. "You're gonna need these. There's still some guards near the exit."

Kurloz in one hand, Scimitar in the other, you follow Slick down the hall towards freedom.

Frankly? The escape was a breeze. The guards waiting at the doors like CD promised stuck their hands in the air as soon as you and Slick showed up brandishing swords. Slick grumbled when you told him to leave them alive, but you escaped safely. As a consolation prize, you hand him your scimitar, using your free hand to text as you rush down the Dersite streets.

[Meenah has the OTHER conversation from Chapter 12 with Horuss.]

Satisfied, you skid into an alleyway with Slick, panting. This city has lots of alleyways.

"So," you say, catching your breath, setting Kurloz's limp, sleeping body down. Looks like he's still crying. "What's next?"

"Well," Spades Slick manages one word before, all of a sudden, you black out.

=ELSEWHERE, THAT IS TO SAY, IN THE WAKING WORLD, ON ALTERNIA'S PINK MOON=

You're still Meenah Piexes. You sit bolt-upright on your respiteslab. That's odd... You're more used to sleeping in a recupacoon.

Oh! Right, you're still at Auntie's house.

...Auntie.

Suddenly, your blood runs cold. If you weren't suspicious before of Professor Scratch, now you're sure of it. Or... Are you? After all, that was all just a dream. Right?

You grip your horns, shaking your head, confused. You wonder what made you wake up so abruptly, but the answer comes in the form of Professor Scratch in the doorway. You eye her nervously.

"Good morning," she says mildly, as though nothing happened. You swallow as she approaches the respiteslab, placing a tray on it. "Are you alright, dear?"

"Bad dream," you say hastily. You laugh, leaning back, trying to be cool. "Barely remember it, but it was hella stressful."

Scratch laughs, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Just a dream," she says. You're not sure if you're imagining it, but she sounds rather forceful.

As she leaves, you're not sure what to think. You eat the food on the tray she provided, thinking to yourself. How can you figure out if your dream was real or all just imagined? Then, you have it. You take out your clam phone, hands shaking.

You had conversations with Cronus and Horuss in the dream. If they're still on your phone when you wake up, then... It's all real.

By now, I'm sure you know where this goes. Meenah discovers her dreams were real, that Derse was real, that Slick is real. She sees the call logs on her phone, and decides, as mortals often do, that their betters don't have their best interests at heart. I have accepted this, and I forgive her for it.

But, sadly, there's no chance she can escape. I hate to do this to her, but she is now my prisoner.

let me outta this fuckin room you crazy beach!!!!

fuck! unlock the door!

Oh, my. Sounds like she's already connected the dots. She was a smart one.

Someday, she'll thank me.

Trouble is, I can't exactly put her to sleep. Otherwise, she'll end up in that alleyway, again.

Now- For you, dear reader, who I'm sure understands my plight and might be more sympathetic, I'd like to divulge some more information.

You probably have many questions, and some of them will be answered in time, but one that I can shed some light on, one that will now never come to pass is...

"Why do you have it out for Kurloz?"

Simple.

Kurloz, as an acolyte of The Prophet, was raised from birth to despise me, calling me that tacky nickname, the "Pink Demon."

I'm not even pink. I just live on the pink moon! Honestly.

I wasn't lying to Slick when I told him Kurloz was the first in a line of misfortunes and sabotages that would result in the scratch.

See, I cannot see past the Game, like I told you at this tale's outset, and I do plan to fill that gap, but I do have some knowledge of such things. Knowledge accrued by an individual known as...

The Hissquatch.

She was a hermit who lived as the other ancestors' contemporaries, a grub born of olive blood who, after an accident, went mad- Or so the people thought.

She went mute, but upon the cave walls in which she lived, she scrawled prophecies, visions brought to her that she could see from seeing into the hearts of those she met.

The Hissquatch was taken care of by her moirail, an indigoblood known as The Mechanic. I do not know much of him.

What I do know, however, is, through the tapestry of prophecies scrawled on her cave walls, that there are six events that will lead to The Scratch, each one in a chain.

I have, so far, been unable to stop these prophecies from coming to pass. I will now enumerate them.

1\. A RUSTBLOOD SHALL B3 3NCAS3D WITHIN TH3 PLAN3T, H3LD B3TW33N LIF3 AND D3ATH.

I was unable to stop this, since it happened millennia before I became aware of these prophecies. This domino was destined to fall.

2\. H3 WHO WAS BORN OF THE MOON WILL PR3PAR3 TH3 WORLD FOR TW3LV3 SAVIORS.

I thought I could stop this from coming to pass by keeping my first progeny here, with me. It seems, however, this domino, too, was impossible to stop. Nonetheless, my precious Moon Man made way for the twelve descendants.

3\. H3IR OF TH3 PROPH3T WILL SP3AK THE LAST HONK, AND, FROM HIS DR3AM, D3AFEN HIS LOV3R.

The heir of the prophet, of course, being our Kurloz. It is not difficult, even for someone not endowed by omnipotence, to divulge the meaning of this prophecy. Kurloz's dream-self will deafen Meulin, which will, in turn, lead to the next prophecies. Despite these prophecies now being moot, I will list them for your sake. I wouldn't want you to get curious. They, after all, will never come to pass, now that I have eliminated Meulin's dream-self. For good measure, though, I will eliminate Kurloz as well. A pity.

4\. THE D3AF3NED LOV3R AND TH3 H3IR WHO D3AF3N3D HER WILL L3ARN TH3 SIGNS OF TH3 HAND.

Now that Meulin can never be deafened, she will never learn these signs.

5\. TH3 RUSTBLOOD WILL B3 FR33D BY TH3 MAN FROM TH3 MOON.

Sadly, I was unable to stop this one, as well. No matter.

6\. TH3 RUSTBLOOD WILL T3LL H3R M3SSAG3 TO TH3 D3AF3N3D LOV3R USING H3R HANDS. TH3 D3AF3N3D LOV3R WILL TH3N IMPART THAT M3SSAG3 TO TH3 WITCH OF TIM3.

Once upon a time, I attempted to take the Witch's life, but my attempt failed. Damara Megido lives, but that is for the best. After all, she is one of the twelve saviors. If I had succeeded in killing her, she would have never been able to play the game. Nonetheless, everything worked out in the end.

I, for one, am glad this business is behind us.

I-

...

That can't be right.

Er. Something unforeseen has happened. Not unforeseen. I can foresee everything. More like... A variable I hadn't considered.

I have to deal with something.

Um. Go be Meenah again.

=MEENAH-WHILE=

You are Meenah, again. You've been banging on this door for five minutes, but your belligerent, and apparently evil auntie won't heed you. You're kind of not taking the news well, after all, she basically raised you. You pant, stepping back from the door, sitting on your respiteslab, face in your hands. You don't know what to think any more. You're conflicted, you feel horrible, you feel helpless, you feel

Hey. Me again. Meenah is going to be like this for a while, so I thought I'd just hop in again.

I really hate that my role in this story has been relegated to "providing context to the Pink Demon's bullshit," but here we are.

I never met the Hissquatch, myself, but her prophecies are legit. What I think is really funny, though, is how belligerently auntie's going about this.

Like, half of those prophecies came true BECAUSE she meddled in the process. Talk about irony.

Anyway, there are two extra prophecies she didn't mention. The REAL reason she's starting all this bullshit.

7\. TH3 WITCH, USING H3R ANC3STOR'S KNOWL3DG3, WILL ACTIVAT3 TH3 SCRATCH.

Self-explanatory. You knew as much. The next one is the real doozy.

8\. TH3 PRINC3 AND TH3 H3IR WILL 3ND TH3 PINK D3MON'S LIF3.

She doesn't want to just stop the scratch. She wants to be there for the game. She wants to meddle forever.

I never wanted her to die, either. She raised me, too. Once upon a time, I loved her like a wiggler loves his lusus. But once you start killing kids to save your own life...

To someone who never has to die, I guess death is especially scary. I've always known I would die, so it's not a big revelation to me.

But an immortal being seeing "you will die" on a cave wall?

Guess she went kind of crazy.

I can't even blame her.

Anyway, we should get back to Meenah.

While you were listening to me, she made a rope out of her respiteblock sheets and climbed out the window. Here.

leap out the window, rappelling down the side of Auntie's manor. You land with an "oof" on the ground below, and as soon as your feet touch the ground, you're off running towards your ship, hoping she didn't move it. You're not hot on the idea of going back to Beforus, but you have no choice.

To your joy, the ship is still there, parked, like it's waiting for you. You leap inside and as soon as the engine warms up...

You're gone.

Alright. This is fine. It's fine.

Things didn't go as planned. But it's fine. No big deal. I can fix this.

I just have to make some adjustments. Pull some strings. This time I won't mess up.

I can prevent the scratch. We can all change our fates. They'll thank me some day. We make our own fate, you see.

Nothing is inevitable.

Oh!

Oh, hello. My apologies. I'm just a little frazzled! Haha.

Turns out, things are a little off the rails! Not much, just a little. Tiny bit.

Don't worry about it, gentle reader, you and I will beat the Scratch yet.

I just have to take care of something planet-side. Head down there in Meenah's little ship.

The ship... Her ship.

Her ship is...

...

SHE WHAT?!


	14. The Prince, The Prophet, and The Last Honk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the clown!
> 
> TW: blood, violence.

One day ago-

Your name is KURLOZ MAKARA. You are the prince to the throne of the GRAND HIGHBLOOD, the highest position among terrestrial trolls... Or so it WAS, until your ANCESTOR besmirched the name forever. You are a fierce adherent to the JUGGALO TRADITION, a mirthful and solemn order of PURPLE-BLOODED CLOWNS, and, as such you do not agree with many of your PLANET'S TRADITIONS. Instead of culling the weak, you live with lowbloods on a nice little communal farm: Raising crops, harvesting slime, and sleeping in canvas tents. It's the only life you've ever known and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

Your typing style is RATHER talkative and enthusiastic... IF a bit monotone at times, and your online handle is thunderousCaterwaul.

What will you do?

Examine respiteblock. ==>

Haha. You can't examine your respiteblock. After all, this brother doesn't possess anything worldly except love in his heart and a scream on his lips! You can, however, examine your surroundings.

Examine surroundings. ==>

God damn. Another beautiful, miraculous day under Beforus's stars on the farm. You watch purplebloods and rustbloods alike watering crops and carrying nature's bounty back to one of the sheds to store. You sigh and smile, the expression deepened by your traditional mime's makeup you wear, black and white. Your leather unitard squeaks as you raise a hand to wave at one of your commune-mates. She waves back with a half-lucid smile.

The world is so fucking special and great for an alien clown living on a commune.

Even more magical- Your beloved matesprit is coming over to visit today! You sigh. It's been so long since you've seen her. But first... You have business to attend to.

Visit The Highblood. ==>

As the Highblood's descendant, you have been tasked with his care. The guy is still alive, in spite of being ancient, and in his old age, he's...

He's pretty much insane.

Centuries of sopor slime does that to a guy. You grab a bottle of the stuff and take it to the Highblood's tent.

As you enter, as usual, you're struck by the smell. God, it smells bad in here. You're pretty sure the Highblood never bathes- You sure as shit don't do it for him. As usual, he's sitting on his throne, reclining peacefully, his low, gravelly voice emanating from the dark tent. The only light source is a dim candle on his throne-side table.

HIGHBLOOD: AhAhA wHaT tHe FuCk Is WhAt My LiTtLe MoThErFuCkEr?

You hand him the sopor, which he reaches for with his shaky, pudgy mitts. Elderly trolls are rare on the planet, as most die off before they can become so decrepit. His skin is a dark shade of black, and his milky eyes are nearly completely red. He's obese and absolutely immense, nearly double your height. He's less like a person and more like a gelatinous, smelly mass. You're... A little intimidated talking to the big fella.

KURLOZ: HELLO, my fine highblood.

HIGHBLOOD: LaNgUaGe, Li'L mAn.

KURLOZ: OH, right.

KURLOZ: WHAT the fuck is up, my fuckin' highblood?

The highblood laughs his raspy laugh as he parts his lips, dumping the sopor past his gnarled teeth. It dribbles down his chin.

HIGHBLOOD: I'vE gOt BiG nEwS, mY lItTlE mOtHeRfUcKeR. i CaN fEeL tHe RiGhTeOuS sIzZlInG iN mY bOnEs WoRsE tHaN eVeR bEfOrE. tOdAy'S mY lAsT dAy UpOn ThIs PlAnEt Of OuRs.

You pause.

KURLOZ: DONT say that, my guy. YOU'VE got days to spare.

HIGHBLOOD: YoU'rE aLl HeLlS oF sWeEt, My LaNkY cOmPaDrE, bUt ThIs Is It FoR mE.

HIGHBLOOD: I hAd A vIsIoN lAsT nIgHt In My DrEaMs. A vIsIoN oF wHaT wIlL cOmE tO pAsS tHiS eVeR sO rIgHtEoUs DaY.

The highblood beckons you closer, placing a hand on your head. You try not to recoil. He seriously smells rank.

HIGHBLOOD: ToDaY, yOu WiLl ShRiEk ThE lAsT hOnK, aNd FrOm ThE nOiSe Of ThAt RiGhTeOuS cAtErWaUl, I wIlL fUcKiN eXpIrE. lIkE aN oLd ChEeSe OuT iN tHe FuCkIn SuN.

KURLOZ: WHAT?

KURLOZ: THAT cant be true, no offense to your miraculous visions, brother.

KURLOZ: TODAY is when my mates coming over.

HIGHBLOOD: ShIiIiT bRoThEr I mIgHt Be WrOnG aGaIn. ThE gOoD mEsSiAh DiDn'T mAkE nObOdY pErFeCt.

HIGHBLOOD: JuSt TaKe My WoRdS tO hEaRt AnD... iF sHiT dOeS sHaKe OuT lIkE i FoRe-SeEn... DoN't Go BlAmIn YoUr DaMn SeLf Li'L dUdE.

You frown. You're not sure how to take this. The Highblood's visions have never been wrong, but he's... Unreliable when it comes to things like this.

HIGHBLOOD: YoU'rE a MaStEr Of ThE cHuCkLeVoOdOoS yOuR dAmN sElF lI'l MaN. dOn'T yOu FrEt. If I'm GoNe, YoU'rE mOrE rEaDy ThAn I eVeR wAs To AcCePt ThE mEsSiAhS iNtO tHe WoRlD.

You can't let doubt show. You nod, meeting the Highblood's gaze. You're not sure if he can see you in the dim light or with his bad vision, but he shuts his eyes peacefully in response.

HIGHBLOOD: KuRlOz. My MoThErFuCkIn KiN. hAvE i EvEr ToLd YoU mY nAmE?

KURLOZ: EASY, hb. ITS makara, like mine.

HIGHBLOOD: ShArP aS a FuCkIn DiCk On A bUzZbEaSt. BuT i AiN't TaLkIn AbOuT tHaT nAmE tHaT wE sHaRe. I'm TaLkIn AbOuT mY nAmE. tHe NaMe My LuSuS gRoWlEd To Me WhEn I wAs A bItCh WiGgLeR eOnS aGo.

You shake your head. No one knows the Highblood's name. People assumed he just forgot it along the lines.

HIGHBLOOD: A nAmE tHaT wAs FeArEd By ThE eMpReSs AnD tHe PiNk DeMoN aLiKe. A nAmE tHaT sTrUcK fEaR iNtO pEoPlE. i WeNt AnD qUiT uSiNg It BeCaUsE i UsEd To Be OnE sCaRy MoThErFuCkEr BaCk In ThE dAy. AlL kIlLiNg PeOpLe AnD rIpPiNg ThEm To ShReDs AnD sHiT. nOwAdAyS i JuSt EnJoY mY sOpOr AnD cHiLl.

HIGHBLOOD: BuT iT's ImPoRtAnT yOu KnOw My NaMe. BeCaUsE mY nAmE iS sHaReD bY oNe Of ThE mIrThFuL mEsSiAhS, aNd OnE dAy... MiLlEnNiA fRoM nOw, WhEn YoU'rE oLd As ShIt LiKe Me... YoU'lL mEeT hIm.

You don't speak. Your jaw goes slack.

HIGHBLOOD: ThE mOtHeRfUcKeR yOu MeEt... WiLl Be Me. AnOtHeR iNcArNaTiOn, BuT nO lEsS rIgHtEoUs AnD fUlL oF pReCiOuS dEvOtIoN tO hIs LoRd. ThE lOrD wE dOn'T sPeAk ThE nAmE oF. tHe DeMoN oF dOuBlE dEaTh.

HIGHBLOOD: My LiTtLe MaN. mY cHiLd. My AcOlYtE. mY pRoGeNy. WhEn YoU hEaR tHe NaMe. YoU kNeEl FoR hIm.

HIGHBLOOD: GaMzEe MaKaRa.

Gamzee. It takes you a minute to respond.

KURLOZ: CONSIDER it committed to memory.

KURLOZ: AND...

KURLOZ: THANK you.

KURLOZ: GAMZEE.

The Highblood sighs, shifting his weight, eyes still shut.

HIGHBLOOD: ThAt'S aLl I gOt FoR yOu. lEaVe Me In MoThErFuCkIn PeAcE. gO sEe YoUr BiTcH.

You exit the tent, as usual, just a bit different than when you entered.

Go see your bitch. ==>

Good timing. It seems Meulin has just arrived. As you emerge from the tent, you look towards the road leading to the commune, and sure enough, in the distance, you see her. Riding on the back of her horse-sized cat lusus. You can't contain yourself. You grin from ear to ear and rush down the road.

KURLOZ: MEU!

When she hears you, she leaps off her kitty and rushes to you, giving you a tight hug.

You kiss her without thinking.

KURLOZ: OOPS, babe, i got makeup on those pretty fuckin lips of yours.

MEULIN: (=^ェ^=) < i dont care, kurloz!!! i missed you SO MUCH!!!!!! it's so good to hear your voice...

KURLOZ: SHIT, kittytits, wed better get inside. SUNS about to rise. I dont want your pretty face to fry, plus youve probably been traveling for ages.

You hold hands, walking the rest of the way towards the farm, inviting her into your tent to sleep.

===

Kurloz then falls asleep for the events of Chapter 13.

You and Meenah make short work of the guards. You've been on Derse long enough to know that people don't really mess with you. They're a little intimidated by non-carapacians, the people they call "dreamers."

MEENAH: this is it. this is the throne room door. ready?

Meenah, knives in hand, grin on her sharp lips, nods. You nod back, grinning yourself. You make a decent team.

MEENAH: YEEEEEE HAW!

Meenah kicks in the door and rushes in. You follow after her, heart pounding. It's exciting, even if it is a dream, but the feeling is cut short when Meenah skids to a halt.

MEENAH: auntie?"

You follow her gaze, and, standing next to your target, the Sword Sorcerer is...

The Pink Demon.

Your blood runs cold. You've never seen her in person, you never knew she was real. But here she is. On Derse. In your dream. What is she doing here? The Sword Sorcerer doesn't matter any more.

Something overtakes you, overwhelms you. You feel rage burning in your veins as you rush towards the demon. You can hear yourself howling, screaming, shouting in anger, and you watch as the carapacians and Meenah recoil from the sound alone. You have to do it. It's your only chance. Something you didn't even know you were capable of:

The Last Honk.

Your body contorts, your jaw unhinges, your mouth opens, and you feel air rushing past your vocal flaps, too fast, too hoarse, destroying you from the inside, but you can't stop, you'll kill everyone here.

You see the Demon raise her hand just before you unleash your scream, and...

Snap.

KURLOZ: 

...

You blink. This isn't Derse. This is... This is your tent. On Beforus... Home.

You raise your hands to your face, panting with relief. Just a dream. You're shaking. You clutch your throat. It's impossibly hoarse, and it looks like your scream tore holes in the tent flaps.

KURLOZ: ghk...

You can't speak, words hurt. You hope everyone on the commune is okay. Then, you remember.

The Highblood. Fuck. You look down at your hands, still quivering from the sight of the Pink Demon. The Highblood was right. He's probably dead in his tent, now... You gasp, coughing blood from your wound. You leap out of your recupacoon, peeking out the window-flap, hissing in pain as the bright Beforan sun shines in. It's not safe to go out, but you're not getting any sleep. You have to talk to someone. Someone you trust, even if it's...

\--- thunderousCaterwaul began trolling tragicAeons \---

TC: TUNA.

TC: TUNA. FUCK.

TC: PLEASE be online. FUCK i know its late just. FUCK. IM freaking out.

TC: TUNA.

TA: >

TC: THANK fuck. I fucked up. REALLY bad.

TA: >calm the fuck down, idiot.

TA: >i'm sure it's nothing.

TA: >still. you must be upset for waking me up at this hour.

TC: IM sorry about that. I just dont know what the fuck else to do, tuna.

TA: >don't call me tuna. it's weird.

TA: >we're supposed to be kismesises. i think.

TA: >does long distance kismessitude even work??

TC: I dont care what the fuck we are right now. FUCK.

TC: YOURE the only person i can trust with this.

TC: I dont think you can like.

TC: BE a guys kismesis if he trusts you like i do.

TC: CAN we please just. FUCKING drop this? I dont care if you think my religion is bs any more just.

TA: >oh.

TA: >wow. yeah. okay, kurloz. just... calm down, i guess.

TC: ITS fine.

TC: IM sorry.

TC: I think i just accidentally killed the highblood.

TA: >fuck.

TC: IT wasnt on purpose. SEE I was having this dream. ABOUT the pink demon.

TA: >oh shit.

TC: AND in the dream, to beat her, i was going to use the last honk.

TA: >whoa

TA: >like the honest to god last honk?

TC: NO! I mean. I dont know?

TC: I mean if it was the real last honk im pretty sure youd know because...

TC: BEFORE i could use it in the dream, i woke up and...

TC: I screamed in real life.

TA: >shit

TA: >are you okay? what even happens when you do that?

TC: I dont know... MY voice is gone and i keep coughing up blood...

TC: WILL i be able to speak again?

TC: IS the highblood okay?

TA: >kurloz...

TA: >i know i hassle you a shitload.

TA: >but i know the highblood means a lot to you. if you killed him... it's not your fault. there's nothing you could have done to keep yourself from screaming. you can't control your dreams.

TA: >he couldn't have blamed you.

TC: HE... HE did say that... YOURE right, mituna. FUCK.

TC: HE said if i ended his life by accident... NOT to beat myself up.

TA: >weird prediction but.

TA: >exactly.

TC: PHEW...

TC: FUCK. I just hope everyone in the camp is ok.

TC: IM pretty far from their tents so theyre probably fine.

TC: IF theyd been closeby they would have probably gone deaf.

TA: >good thing meulin wasnt with you

TA: >she's visiting right?

TA: >...

TA: >uh.

TA: >buddy?

\--- thunderousCaterwaul ceased trolling tragicAeons \---

Your eyes fix on the screen, on one word.

Meulin.

You're frozen. You can't move, you can only shake. She was sleeping right beside you in the recupacoon, she was next to you when you screamed. You can't look into the recupacoon. You can't do it. Your knees shake, you sweat, your phone clatters to the ground.

It's like you're in a trance, lightheaded and blank, eyes wide as dinner plates as you take one step, then two, then three, each plodding pace worth a hundred deafening heartbeats.

You reach the recupacoon. You look inside.

Meulin is sleeping soundly. Her breathing steady, her face peaceful. But that offers you little consolation.

Because mixing with the sopor slime inside the cocoon, oozing from Meulin's ears, swirling together with the neon green of the slime...

Is blood.

You force your voice to obey you, no matter how much it hurts, you hoarsely croak two syllables.

KURLOZ: meu....lin...

Meulin doesn't stir.

You swallow blood, and using the last ounce of your voice, you call out again, louder, bile and purple hemoglobin churning in your throat.

KURLOZ: MEU- LIN!!!!!

Nothing.

You strike the side of the recupacoon, tears stinging your eyes.

KURLOZ: MEU- LIN?!!?!

Your voice is anguished, and you don't care if you ever speak again. Meulin stirs and your eyes go wide again. She makes a sleepy groan, rubbing sopor from her eyes.

MEULIN: (=•́ܫ•̀=) < hi, kurl-

She blinks.

MEULIN: (=•́ܫ•̀=) < kurloz, why are you crying?

You put your face into your hands. You can't look at her.

MEULIN: (≧☉_☉≦) < kurloz, it's okay! i'm here!

MEULIN: (≧>_<≦) < KUUUUURLOOOOOOOZ?

MEULIN: (ﾐ⚈ᆽ◕ﾐ) < DID SOPOR GET INTO MY EARS?

Her voice is so... Earnest. She puts a hand between your horns.

MEULIN: (๑꒡ᆽ꒡๑) < KURLOZ? WHY CAN'T I HEAR MYSELF?


	15. GameGrl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here she is!

Before we begin, I should say something.

Things haven't been going well for me. It's no secret, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I'm omnipotent, not perfect.

It's been nearly a sweep since this saga began, and the day of the game is nearly upon me- Upon us. Upon the twelve saviors. Upon you, dear reader. You're probably on the edge of your seat.

But today is particularly special. The day of the First Reckoning, when the game is accessed.

We are in the endgame, now, folks. My plans are coming to fruition. But let's not dawdle. Let's showcase a character that we haven't seen much of yet, one you've likely been chomping at the bit to see!

Your name is LATULA PYROPE.

Your life pretty much rules. Your three favorite things, your VIDEO GAMES, your STUNTS, and your MATESPRIT are all available in abundance, and you've fallen into a nice little routine. You wake up and message them, you get some breakfast, then you participate in your GRIND-A-DAY project.

At the beginning of the sweep, you promised your beloved GRUBTUBE subscribers that you would film one new stunt every day for the whole sweep. So far, you've been keeping up with it, thanks for the encouragement from your FRIENDS.

But after your filming session with your FOUR-WHEELED-BOARD, you can't help feel some extra energy! After all, you're an energetic gal.

You speak with 3xc3ll3nt y3t r4d1c4l d1ct1on, and your online handle is galCoolest.

What will you do.

Message your matesprit. ==>

Wow. That's a totally fuckin' radical idea! You think you'll do just that, post-haste, without fucking around with anything else at all.

\--- galCoolest began trolling tragicAeons \---

GC: yo yo yo wh4t th3 fuck 1s up, bro?!

GC: ch3ck out th3 grubtub3 v1d3o 1 just post3d!

TA: >latula!

TA: >christ. i was afraid you died.

TA: >that was a serious fall. are you... okay?

TA: >i mean, i'm assuming you're okay because you're talking to me.

GC: h3ll y34h broth3r m4n. f1t 4s 4 f1ddl3! 1 m34n. my l3g 1s d3f1n1t3ly brok3n, but bon3s grow b4ck! plus now 1t tw1sts th3 wrong w4y. couldnt do th4t b3for3.

TA: >uh

GC: worst com3s to worst, 1ll h4v3 horuss wh1p m3 up 4 m3t4l on3! l1k3 h3 d1d for ruf1oh.

TA: >i think that's well past a worst case scenario...

TA: >but you're right. you're pretty injury prone, and i'm pretty sure you've had worse.

GC: my d3f3ns3 st4t 1s m4x3d from y34rs of tr41n1ng, dud3r1no.

TA: >training

TA: >aka involuntary injuries

GC: s3m4nt1cs.

GC: look though, 1m not h3r3 to d1scuss my on-th3-m3nd l3g, 1m h3r3 to d1scuss th3 g4m3.

TA: >really?

TA: >youve been kind of detached about the game. you just joined meenah's team with me then fell off the map.

GC: y34h! 1 h4d stuff to do w1th my stunt-4-d4y proj3ct.

GC: but th4ts 4lmost don3! plus th3 sk4t3 p4rk 1 usu4lly go to w4s just struck by 4 m3t3or.

TA: >there have been a lot of those lately. meenah says they have something to do with our game.

TA: >i think people are finally heeding my doom prophecies a little more.

GC: psh! doom proph3cy shoom proph3cy. you r34lly h4v3 to l3t th4t go, tun4, 1ts go1ng to br34k your br41n 1f you k33p fr3tt1ng 4bout 4ll th4t.

TA: >matesprit doesn't believe me, even when meteors are destroying civilization.

TA: >that feel when.

TA: >

GC: look, my pl4n 1nclud3s your pr3c1ous doomsd4y pr3d1ct1ons!

TA: >really?

GC: y34h! you s41d 1ts 1mport4nt w3 g3t 1nto th3 g4m3 4s4p. 4nd you h4v3 4 copy th4t horuss g4v3 to you. r1ght?

TA: >right.

GC: w3ll 1 s4y... w3 g3t th3 drop on t34m sp1d3rb1t3.

GC: w3 g3t 1nto th3 g4m3 34rly.

TA: >oh, shit.

TA: >that's not a bad idea, latula.

GC: plus s1nc3 your3 th3 on3 who cod3d 1t, your3 bound to know sh1tlo4ds 4bout 1t!

TA: >i don't know much.

TA: >just the basic means of connection and advancement.

TA: >but it's certainly more than anyone else knows. you're the only person other than kurloz who will listen to me when i explain things.

GC: oh y34h!! congr4ts on your mo1r41l3g14nc3, tun4!

GC: s4d th4t 1t took h1m d34f3n1ng h1s m4t3spr1t to conn3ct th3 two of you... but. 1m gl4d youv3 got som3on3 3ls3 look1ng out for you.

TA: >oh

TA: >i guess we are moirails, now.

TA: >though i haven't been able to speak with him, much. he is alone with meulin nowadays.

TA: >he took a vow of silence, which evidently includes texting.

GC: 1 th1nk th3 guy r34lly b34t h1ms3lf up 4bout 1t... 3v3n though m3ul1n 1s just 4s ch1pp3r 4s 3v3r.

TA: >they're learning sign language, together, apparently.

TA: >maybe i'll learn, too.

TA: >but back on track.

TA: >your plan is very good, latula. the disc horuss gave to me was to be passed on to you, anyway.

GC: how do3s th1s 4ll work, 4nyw4y?

TA: >it's simple.

TA: >each team has a "client" and a "server" player. each server gets each client into the game in a sequence.

TA: >for example:

TA: >player one gets player two in, then player two gets player three in, then player three gets player one in.

GC: l1k3 4 ch41n.

GC: ok4y, so... you g3t m3 1n, th3n 1 g3t th3 oth3rs 1n, th3n th3y g3t you 1n.

TA: >right!

TA: >but i can't go in first, since i have the disc and have to pass it on to someone else.

TA: >so i will be geting you in first.

GC: y3sss.

TA: >there are other steps, too, but, er-

TA: >rather esoteric.

TA: >see, you have to do something referred to as "prototyping," which i'm not familiar with.

GC: h3h. 1m sur3 1t do3snt m4tt3r 1f w3 dont do th4t! wh4t m4tt3rs 1s g3tt1ng 1n 4s4p.

TA: >you're probably right.

TA: >i'm going to send you the client application. install it and we can get started.

GC: T1GHT!

\--- tragicAeons ceased trolling galCoolest \---

Looks like things are coming up Latuna! Soon enough, the client app is loaded and upon opening, things start to happen.

First, Mituna, your server, appears to gain control over your immediate area! How cool is that? Then, he materializes three devices into said immediate area, one next to the other, in your front yard.

Listen, reader. I'm going to level with you. I'm going to assume you know how SBURB works and what a cruxtruder is. I don't want to rehash a bunch of shit, here, this fic is long in the tooth already.

\--- galCoolest began trolling tragicAeons \---

GC: 1m go1ng to do 4 tr1ck off th3s3 b1tch3s!

TA: >um

TA: >hang on, i'm still reading about what these do!

As promised, you do a sweet four-wheeled-device trick, grinding on the "totem lathe" to do a kickflip onto the cruxtruder.

Unfortunately, your broken leg hinders you somewhat, and you land stomach-first on the cruxtruder cap, causing it and you to fly off. A large teal-colored dowel pops out and strikes you in the ribs, cracking them mercilessly. You laugh on the ground.

TA: >that looked

TA: >painful

TA: >

GC: 1t w4s but 1t 4bsolut3ly rul3d.

GC: 1f you got 1t on c4m3r4 s3nd 1t to m3!

TA: >ok

You get up with some difficulty. It appears that your ribs are now broken, too. Not to worry! You pick up the dowel, turning it over in your hand. You sit down on your four-wheel-device and using your not-broken leg, wheel yourself over to the cruxtruder. Floating in midair is an orb- This is great! You LOVE orbs.

GC: th1s th1ng rul3s. wh4t 1s 1t?

TA: >i have. no idea, frankly. i'm still trying to keep up with all this bs.

TA: >augh this is so aggrivating!

TA: >hold onto that cylinder, it's important.

TA: >and don't put anything in the orb until we know what it is!

TA: >okay, listen carefully, latula. each step is vital, and if you miss one, you'll be fucked.

TA: > step one:

\--- tragicAeons went offline ---

Uh. Shit. Looks like Mituna's offline. That's not ideal. You bite your lip, clutching the dowel tighter. Looks like you're in this alone, for now. No matter! You'll make Mituna proud.

Be Mituna. ==>

You are now Mituna. You bang your fist against your computer desk, swearing up a storm.

MITUNA: 57UP1D P13C3 0F G4R84G3 8ULL5H17-

You take a deep breath, stopping yourself. Cool, collected, Mituna. It's just a power outage. Sometimes those happen, it's no big deal. Latula, despite broken ribs and leg, will be fine. She isn't wrong about her defense stat being unusually high. She recovers from these things fast, and she's sharp as a pin, too.

You withdraw your phone, which on the bright side, is getting reception, but on the dark side, it's only on 0% battery. Unlike most yellowbloods, you can't charge the thing yourself, because your psiionics are too strong. You DO know someone who CAN charge it, though: Your beloved Lusus!

Locate lusus. ==>

Like most of the other yellowbloods in the training compound, your lusus sleeps in the lusus bay, a large repurposed garage where the lusii sleep. Yours is always hassling the others, though, so he's usually chained on the roof of the garage instead. You make your way to the garage, picking your way towards the stairwell leading to the roof, through a large swath of various yellowblood lusii. There are giant bees, alligators, frogs with well-muscled humanoid legs, the works!

MITUNA: >sorry-

MITUNA: >just passing through! gotta see pops.

You make it and ascend the staircase. There he is, or, more accurately, there they are.

Your lusus is distinctive- An adult-troll-sized alabaster being with two heads, each topped with a single horn. Upon seeing you, he brightens up immediately. He's a little bipolar- When you're nearby he's sweet as a mewbeast, but when you're not, he's as truculent as a sleeping cholerbear.

MITUNA: >hehe, hey pops.

You're wrapped up in a hug. A pang of guilt strikes you. You don't have time to visit with him right now, you just need your phone to be charged. Once he lets go, you awkwardly hand him the device.

MITUNA: >can you charge this for me, real quick? it's really important.

Your right-dad nods, and left-dad gets to work, using its psiionics to pump energy into the phone. You dance anxiously. You have to get back to Latula quickly. Dad hands you the phone back. 100% battery. He's the best. You hug him once more and hasten to check your messages. Shit. It looks like during the outage, someone ELSE messaged you. You bite your lip.

You hate to leave Latula hanging, but she's a certified radgirl! She's probably making good gaming choices. You answer your new moirail.

\--- thunderousCaterwaul began trolling tragicAeons \---

TC: good MORROW my FINE dude.

TA: >kurloz, fuck. i haven't heard from you in perigees.

TA: >are you okay? is meulin okay?

TC: she IS, brother MAN. she IS.

TC: you SEE, my GUY, she HAS learned THE righteous WAYS of THE hand-SIGNS.

TA: >that's great!

TA: >i mean, not great... it's sad she, uh.

TA: >that that stuff happened.

TC: sure IS.

TC: but MITUNA, i DIDNT come FOR just CHATTING.

TC: we NEED to DISCUSS the PINK DEMON.

You bite your lip. You figured that would come up. You had a dreadful feeling she had something to do with this.

TC: i DONT have LONG brother.

TC: MEET me AT the FARM tomorrow.

TC: YOU must.

TA: >fuck.

TA: >okay, yeah, that's fine. 

TA: >latula and i just started the game early so i don't know how free i'll be, but...

TC: FUCK.

TC: THIS is EXCELLENT brother. BECAUSE the GAME is THE key.

TC: YOU and ME need TO get IN there ASAP.

The dread keeps building.

TA: >i'll be there.

TC: GOD SPEED MY LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER.

\--- thunderousCaterwaul ceased trolling tragicAeons \---

You stand up. Your lusus makes a pained noise and you pat him on his head.

MITUNA: >don't worry guys. i'll be back. it's not like this is the last time you'll see me.

Be Latula. ==>

You are now Latula again. Wow, you really fucked up.

Things were going so well, too! You were outside your hive, making your way around, scooting on your four-wheel-device, figuring out these dowels, when something terrible happened.

\--- tragicAeons began trolling galCoolest \---

TA: >latula!

TA: >sorry, bad timing. there was a power outage. what's going on? my computer is off so i can't see anything.

GC: uuuuuuuhhhhhhh!

You're glad he can't see anything.

Long story short, the thing he told you not to do? "Not putting anything into the orb until we know what it is?" Yeah. You did that.

GC: go1ng gr34t, tun4! just f1n1sh1ng up w1th th1s crux1t3 contr4pt1on.

TA: >okay, great.

TA: >while that's happening, tell me what the timer on the cruxtruder says? it's important.

GC: t1m3r? 1 d1dn't not1c3 on3. l3mm3 ch3ck.

You check. It's counting down from thirty seconds. You wonder what that could mean.

GC: tw3nty-31ght s3conds! w3ll. now tw3nty-f1v3.

TA: >oh.

TA: >oh shit.

TA: >latula, listen to me. you need to alchemize that dowel NOW, and do whatever it tells you to do!

TA: >...

TA: >latula?!

You don't respond. You can't. Because as you're alchemizing the totem, you happen to gaze into the sky. Above you, lighting up the whole woods in which you live, is a flaming, red ball of rock, screaming towards you.

GC: tun4 1 h4v3 to g3t th3 fuck out of h3r3.

TA: >what?!

\--- galCoolest is offline ---

TA: >L47UL4?

Be Mituna. ==>

This is a pretty stressful day for you. You hit your desk again and scream. A few yellowbloods peek their heads out from their dorms, but hastily pull them back in when you emerge into the hallway, clutching your helmet, the device fizzling and crackling red and blue sparks.

MITUNA: L47UL4 M3730R! FUCK1NG CRUX173! D0W3L7H!!! FUCK1NG FUCK17Y FUCK 7HH17 P155 FUCK!!!!

Before you can react, your helmet falls off your head. Your hands shake as you cover your eyes with your hands.

MITUNA: U53L355!!!!! H3LM37 8ULL5H17!!!

You stumble back down the hall, towards the lusus garage. It takes every ounce of your strength to hold your powers back. Your hands are snapped over your eyes, which are squeezed closed, keeping the psiionic beams back. You have to get to your lusus before they escape. He's the only one who can calm you down. You stagger towards the stairwell, all the lusii in the garage getting out of your way, until you feel the cool breeze of the roof.

MITUNA: H3333LP M33333!

You cry out into the cold night air as you lose control. You open your eyes, hoping to see the loving face of your lusus...

But instead, all you can see is red, blue, and your lusus's charred remains.

Be Latula. ==>

You're Latula, again. Really playing some ping-pong today, aren't we?

On the bright side? A meteor didn't crush you. You're safe! The meteor is gone, as a matter of fact.

The bad news is that you're now... Somewhere else. The sky above you is dark, the trees around your home have grown much more dense. It appears you and the hive have been displaced.

LATULA: wh4t th3 fuck?

You look at your kernelsprite.

For years, you've never known your lusus. She was a dragon, once, belonging to a fearsome tealblood named The Prosecutor. Unfortunately, that was ages ago, and the dragon who'd once flown the stars has been a pile of bones for since you were a wiggler. You've never known her. Until now.

In a moment of passion, to stop the orb from yammering on, you tossed the skull of your long-dead lusus into it in an attempt to shut it up! It had worked, but now... The kernel appears to have taken the form of the dragon of old.

DRAGONSPRITE: h1 l4tul4! h111111!

You're still not sure what to make of this. Meeting your mom after so many years.

LATULA: uh. h1! 4r3 you...

DRAGONSPRITE: 1 4m!!

DRAGONSPRITE: 1 4m 4n 1nc4rn4t1on of your lusus, brought to l1f3 by th1s g4m3 m3ch4n1c!! 1sn't th4t 3xc1t1ng?

LATULA: wh3r3... 4m 1?

DRAGONSPRITE: you'r3 1n th3 m3d1um! mor3 sp3c1f1c4lly, you'r3 1n th3 l4nd of lum3ns 4nd glow!

You're not sure you can process this. Dragonsprite cocks her head at you.

Your phone buzzes.

\--- cruelCondescension began trolling galCoolest \---

CC: yo lat

CC: change of plans

CC: we need to get in the game now

CC: fuck the teams fuck everyfin

CC: tell tula and horuss to get everyone in

GC: sh1t. 1'm w4y 4h34d of you on th4t, m33n4h! 1'm 4lr34dy 1n th3 g4m3. 4t l34st... 1 th1nk 1 4m?

CC: holy shit

CC: normally id be pissed you didnt follow directions but fuck it

CC: whos next in line

GC: ruf1oh's 4ft3r m3.

CC: ok get him the fuck in

GC: 1 don't know 1f 1 c4n? 1 don't h4v3 th3 d1scs. tun4 s3nt m3 4 cl13nt 4pp but 1 don't h4v3 th3 s3rv3r 4pp.

CC: doesnt matter

CC: look just uh

CC: what moon do you sleep on

GC: uh?

CC: FUCK

CC: okay okay this is fine. we can get a disc to you.

CC: just go to bed

CC: and tell me when you wake up if you dream in purple or in gold

GC: uh????

CC: stfu

CC: im going to tell everyone else to get the chain goin

CC: ugh

CC: aranea is going to be so smug that were all on the same team now

GC: th3 mor3 th3 m3rr13r, r1ght?

CC: i guess

You don't know what the fuck Meenah's talking about or if you should take a nap right now. It doesn't seem... Safe, here.

CC: and tell mituna to start buildin your hive up so you can get to the first gate

GC: th3 wh4t?

\--- cruelCondescension ceased trolling galCoolest \---

Looks like that's all you're getting.

Be Meenah. ==>

You're now Meenah.

You're back at the palace. You don't have much time. The drones don't dare attack you, since you're the heiress, but you also know that they're going to tattle to the Empress about you. You have to get into the game NOW. Problem is, Horuss only gave discs to two people so far. The first- Mituna. The second?

Aranea.

Mituna is indisposed, so you're going to have to ask her. You REALLY don't want to, but you have no choice. You have to get into the game now.

Auntie or the Empress will be here any moment.

\--- cruelCondescension began trolling arcaneGnowledge \---

CC: lemme join ur team

AG: I 8eg your pardon?

CC: stfu dont get smug with me beach just get me into the game asap

CC: send me the client program or what the fuck ever

AG: I'm sorry, Meenah, 8ut that's a tall order! How can I not 8e smug when you're 8egging me to do what we could have done since the 8eginning?

CC: uuuuuuuurrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhh

AG: Fine! I will let you in on one condition.

CC: fuck fine name it

AG: T8ke me 8ack.

You want to scream. You want to strangle Aranea right now. After a long sigh and dread in your heart, you type four letters to the little opportunist.

CC: fine

AG: Oh!!!!!!!! I never thought that would work, Meenah! You must 8e truly desper8! Goodness, this is wonderful, I can't wait to tell Kankri.

You bury your face into your hands. You always thought this would be a moment of triumph, escaping your old life and making a new one. Not like this.

CC: just send the program

AG: Ask nicely. Darling. :::;)

CC: just send the program...

You feel like vomiting.

CC: ...babe

AG: Hehehehehehehehe!

\--- cruelCondescension ceased pestering arcaneGnowledge \---

Be The Empress. ==>

You are now Feferi Piexes.

DRONE: NEWS FROM THE OLD PALACE EMPRESS STOP

You perk up suddenly.

FEFERI: Good god, reely?

DRONE: DRONE #413 REPORTS:

DRONE: "HEIRESS RETURNED TO PALACE STOP GUARDING ALL EXITS NOW STOP SHE IS NOT RESISTING FULL STOP"

Without so much as waiting, you dash out the door, screaming for a scuttlebuggy to be ready.

That little beach has kept you waiting for too long.

As you drive top-speed towards the old palace, your heart thuds.

Civil unrest has reached an all-time-high. People think you killed Meenah. Meteors are striking your planet, and to top it all off, your approval rating is at an all-time low of less than 30%. It's all far too much, so much you could cry. You've been ruling for thousands of sweeps, you built this planet with your bare hands, and now it's as though it's all falling apart around you.

But you won't let it.

If the people think you killed Meenah? Maybe you should make it happen.

You won't let your planet go.

DRONE: T-MINUS ONE MINUTE TO ARRIVAL STOP

You grit your sharp teeth, clutching your trident. You're going to do what you should've done years ago when that traitor, the Grand-Matron fled with Meenah.

But as you approach the old palace, Meenah's hive... Something is happening. The whole complex is glowing, the grounds shrouded in a blue light, like electricity. Meenah stands in the front yard next to some mysterious white-colored device with a cylinder poking out the top. Your jaw goes slack. You leap from the buggy, howling at Meenah. This won't take but one toss. You're too far to reach her.

FEFERI: YOU TOOK -EV-ERYT)(ING FROM M-E-E-E-E-E-E!

You howl over the roar of the blue light and toss your trident as hard as you can muster towards Meenah. She looks up in shock, dodging to the side, the golden trident clattering to the ground behind her. Once she spots you... She grins and points up into the sky.

You pant, running towards the palace, but before you can make it...

It's gone.

You find yourself tumbling down a crater where the immense palace once was, face-down in the dirt, screaming for vengeance.

You have no idea what happened. The palace just... Disappeared. You claw at the dirt, helplessly as you sob.

DRONE: EMPRESS STOP

You ignore the drone, weeping into the crater. It was all a waste. It's all over. Your reign, your sanity, your-

DRONE: EMPRESS PLEASE MOVE FULL STOP

You look up towards the drone, ready to admonish it, but to your horror, before you're able...

A meteor crushes you from above.

In your final moments, you have just one thought. Meenah's smiling face and her smug pointing skyward.

The Empress is Dead. Meenah got away.


	16. Horse Body Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions are answered. Questions are... Raised.

Your name is RUFIOH NITRAM. You live in... An OPEN-AIR APARTMENT, leased to you by your indigoblood LANDLORD.

...

Okay, full disclosure, you live in a stable. Your "indigo landlord" is just your long-time friend Horuss Zahhak, who is responsible for your REGRETTABLE STATE OF BEING. You used to have a COOL CLUB in the woods, but those days are behind you. You miss the LOST WEEABOOS, but you're happier like this, in your new HORSE BODY.

Did I mention the HORSE BODY? You have a HORSE BODY. It's a little bit like a centaur, but instead of the troll torso, it's just a troll head on a robotic body.

Before THE ACCIDENT, you were a normal bipedal, non-mechanical troll, and you even had a cool pair of wings! You felt so free, flying through the air, evading the drones when they tried to cull you. But it wasn't to last... You had a HORRIBLE ACCIDENT which rendered your legs unusable. As a result, a passing troll named HORUSS patched you up! In your opinion, he kind of did overkill? Like. Your ankle was just broken, he didn't need to replace your whole body with a robo-horse.

Even still, being a ROBO HORSE is awesome, even if you lack opposable thumbs and it puts a strain on your MATESPRITSHIP...

You speak with a well spoken yet rad1cal l1lt, and your online handle is antlersTitanic.

What will you do?

Talk to your matesprit. ==>

You decide to talk to your matesprit. It's been a long time coming, but you have a feeling you need to do this now. You can't keep living a lie.

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: This conversation has been translated from Troll-Japanese. Because that's the language they're speaking._

\--- antlersTitanic began trolling anatanoAkuyaku \---

AT: damara-chan. we need to talk.

AA: This is fine. I assumed we would have to talk soon, regardless. After all, it seems the game is starting.

AA: If my information is correct, then most players are already in the game.

AT: yeah, about that...

AA: In fact, everyone but you, myself, and Aranea appear to be inside.

AT: uh huh.

AT: but ser1ously, let's chat.

AA: I believe the order will be as follows. Please take note.

AA: Latula will get you in. Then you will get me in. Then I, finally, will get Aranea in, which will complete the loop.

AT: r1ght totally. cha1n of operations. aha.

AT: just before all that no1se, can 1 say someth1ng?

AA: Oh, my apologies, Rufioh-kun. I was speaking over you.

AA: Forgive me. I was just excited at the idea of meeting you.

AA: It has been so long.

AT: um yeah totally just.

AT: haha you know what? gett1ng 1nto the game 1s more 1mportant r1ght now.

AA: Very well. It does take precedent, but do not feel like you cannot speak to me.

AA: I love you.

AT: haha.

AT: love you too.

AA: Is... HE already in the game?

AT: he?

AA: Zahhak-san.

AT: oh. yeah, he got 1n a wh1le ago. 1 th1nk meul1n was h1s server player.

AT: 1 can st1ll see the crater where h1s mans1on was.

AA: Tch.

AA: He is a despicable man.

AT: dama... come on. he saved my l1fe.

AA: He saved nothing. He put you in that perverse shell and took you from me.

AA: We were happy in the woods.

AT: 1 know, just... be1ng a cool horse 1sn't so bad. 1t's k1nd of cool! runn1ng around, w1nd through my ha1r... sure 1t k1nd of blows not hav1ng hands or anyth1ng, haha, but l1ke. 1 can st1ll talk to you us1ng my bu1lt-1n w1f1 ch1p!

AA: Whatever. I do not want to have this argument again.

AA: I am just used to losing my friends.

AA: You're right, Rufyo. I should not worry. I should trust my own matesprit.

AA: Talk to Latula. Enter the game so I may as well.

AT: haha... r1ght!

\--- antlersTitanic ceased trolling anatanoAkuyaku \---

You sigh. You weren't strong enough to bring it up. You can't keep it from her forever... You feel terrible, but you just don't have the heart to break hers! You look out of your stable forlornly at Horuss's crater, where his mansion was spirited away just hours before.

Damara has had enough pain in her life. She doesn't need to know you cheated on her.

Get into the game. ==>

You figure you might as well do what she says, for now. Maybe if this game allows you two to meet in person, you'll be able to break up with Damara in person!

_Author's note: This conversation has been translated from horrendous leetspeak. Which is what both trolls are speaking._

\--- antlersTitanic began trolling galCoolest \---

GC: ruf1oh! b1g r! roof on 4 h1v3! wh4t th3 fuck 1s up?

AT: latula! 1 am glad you're 1n a good mood. 1 am 1n the need for such 1nfect1ous enthus1asm r1ght about now.

GC: oof. yeah. 1 heard about you and horuss's b1g smooch. how'd your matespr1t take 1t?

AT: ...

GC: oh. oh wow. bumm3r...

GC: dud3. you'v3 s3r1ously got to t3ll h3r. you c4n't str1ng h3r 4long l1k3 th4t.

GC: w41t, who 3v3n 1s your m4t3spr1t? you'v3 n3v3r told m3 h3r n4m3.

GC: 1s 1t aranea??

AT: grody. no way.

AT: 1 actually can't tell you her name. for some reason she sa1d 1 wasn't allowed to.

GC: 1s sh3 l1k3. you know.

AT: what?

GC: r34l?

AT: what! yes!

GC: ok4y dud3, just m4k1ng sur3! 4ft3r 4ll 4 g1rl m4g1c4ly 4pp34r1ng 1n purpl3 p4j4m4s 1n th3 m1ddl3 of th3 woods 1s 4 sus 4s fuck story.

AT: 1 know. 1 don't understand 1t, e1ther.

AT: she was speak1ng troll-japanese and talk1ng about some "p1nk demon." 1f you don't bel1eve me, 1 understand.

GC: p1nk d3mon, huh? m1tun4's 4lw4ys pr4ttl1ng on 4bout th4t consp1r4cy th3ory!

GC: w3ll, 1 gu3ss m1tun4 w4s r1ght 4bout som3 proph3c13s. 4ft3r 4ll, 1t looks l1k3 h3 w4s r1ght 4bout th3 world 3nd1ng. m4yb3 th1s p1nk d3mon 1s r34l.

AT: maybe.

GC: m4yb3 your g1rlfr13nd 4nd m1tun4 would g3t 4long!

AT: um. haha. yeah. totally.

GC: w3ll 3nough y4kk1ng! l3ts g3t your hors3s 4ss 1nto th1s fuck1ng g4m3!

AT: t1ght!

You and Latula collaborate to get into the game. It is exciting and fun, but for the sake of brevity, let's just say you narrowly escape meteoric doom and enter your land: The Land of Tracks and Wind.

AT: 1 can't stay long, latula, but... thank you.

GC: no probl3m buddy! you sur3 you'll b3 ok4y th3r3 w1thout, uh- h4nds?

TA: for sure! w1th t1nkerbull at my s1de, 1'm unstoppable. poss1bly l1terally. 1t's very d1ff1cult to stop myself when 1 start runn1ng 1n th1s body. haha.

GC: uh! cool!

GC: l4t3r, dud3!

\--- galCoolest ceased trolling antlersTitanic \---

You don't have time to lose. Damara has been texting you off the hook since you began, here. Her situation is probably urgent. You're not surprised, as a meteor shower was spotted in the area of the forest. Before you left, you saw that your old home in the woods was totally on fire!

_Author's note: East-Alternian. You get it._

\--- anatanoAkuyaku began trolling antlersTitanic \---

AA: Rufioh, this is urgent. Please respond.

AA: I don't mean to be a pest, but please get into the game fast.

AA: Rufioh!

AA: RUFIOH I DO NOT MEAN TO BE ALARMIST.

AA: BUT MY HIVE IS ON FIRE.

Fuck. Looks like you don't have time to talk about your feelings at the moment. Hastily, you boot up the server app and get Damara started.

AT: wow. 1t looks ser1ously bad over there, dama. you weren't k1dd1ng, about the f1re.

AA: No shit.

AA: Thanks for putting the alchemiter inside my firey hungerblock, by the way. Very elegant.

AT: oh. 1'm sorry.

AA: It's fine. Just. Don't touch anything. I'll do this myself.

You watch as Damara works around your inconvenient alchemiter placement. Tiny meteors are pelting through the ceiling of her hive- A hive which was already tiny and humble. It probably won't survive the trip to the Medium.

AT: hey dama?

No response. You decide to just sort of. Get your feelings out there while she's preoccupied.

AT: so 1've been th1nk1ng. you and me. haha.

AT: l1sten. you're great, really. 1t's not you, honest, 1t's me. l1ke 100% me, my fault, why 1'm say1ng th1s. you're great! so great.

AT: but yeah 1'm just th1nk1ng l1ke, maybe 1'm not ready for a relat1onsh1p l1ke th1s, y'know? maybe 1 should run free and see the world, sorta.

AT: okay, well not the world, but more l1ke... my planet. the game. the world 1s gone, now, wh1ch... wow.

AT: anyway yeah 1 guess all 1'm say1ng 1s maybe we should sort of... part ways!

AT: l1ke a break!

AT: but a permanent break. one that lasts forever.

AT: l1sten, you look k1nda busy, so 1'm just go1ng to go ahead and go. horuss 1s messag1ng me.

AT: also 1'm dat1ng horuss now. 1 hope that's cool! see you soon damara!

\--- antlersTitanic ceased pestering anatanoAkuyaku \---

Whew! You feel amazing. You finally got that off your chest. Horuss was right, it's better to just rip the adhesive healing strip off quickly instead of prolonging it. You weren't lying about Horuss messaging you, either, so you quickly switch tabs.

\--- capaciousTool began trolling antlersTitanic \---

CT: 8=D < Greetings, my noble steed. Latula tells me you are inside the Medium. That is wonderful news. Stay put and I will make haste to come to you as soon as is possible.

AT: oh jeez l1ke r1ght away? my land 1s k1nd of cool, and 1 just was reun1ted w1th my lusus t1nkerbull. 1 thought maybe 1 could run around for a wh1le 1n th1s n1ce hoofbeast bod you gave me bro. }:)

CT: 8=D < Nonsense! As usual, Rufioh, darling, you are unaware what is really good for you. You are incredibly lucky to have a matesprit like me to tell you how to behave.

CT: 8=D < Like when your legs were tragically taken from you, you insisted that you didn't want a robust musclebeast chasis, but lo and behold, it is the best thing that's ever happened to you!

AT: no yeah! that's. mostly r1ght!

AT: maybe we should l1ke. meet up after all! you're r1ght, horuss. 1t'll be n1ce to see you.

CT: 8=D < E%cellent! I will see you soon, my radiant horsefriend.

AT: you mean boyfr1end?

CT: 8=D < No!

\--- capaciousTool ceased trolling antlersTitanic \---

Man. Horuss is so cool. He's a little bossy, but you're sure that's normal in a matesprit! Damara was kind of bossy, too. Maybe it's because Horuss is a highblood! Well, either way. Things all worked out in the end!

Wait for Horuss. ==>

You start waiting for Horuss. It might be a while.

This is boring. Be someone else. ==>

You are now someone else! To be precise, you are now Kurloz.

The past few sweeps have been interesting. You've come to understand so much, you and your beloved learning the way of the hand signs, both of you becoming in-tune with the righteous path. The path to the scratch.

You are sad it took deafening your lover to get to this level of clarity, but you have amended your transgression by embracing the way of the mime. Your final act on Beforus before entering the fated game was to take the vow of silence and sew your mouth shut.

Drinking sopor smoothies to survive ain't half bad, either!

Meulin is sleeping soundly next to you. She just finished getting Horuss into the game. You are together on her land, the Land of Lithe Contortions and Tabbies. It's a place you're comfortable in, filled with big tops packed with tents, in which salamanders leap from flying trapezes, putting on circus shows for you both. Cats meow gently nearby, Meulin's massive kitty lusus snoozing calmly beneath her head. You kiss Meulin's forehead, hopping out of the circus tent. You have work to do.

\--- thunderousCaterwaul began trolling tragicAeons \---

TC: I understand YOU have EXPERIENCED your TRAUMA, mituna.

TA: >kurloz.

TA: >y3ah. i don't know. i just. i don't know.

TA: >i feel fucked up.

TA: >i killed him, kurloz. my lusus. there wasn't even enough of him left to prototype him.

TC: WHAT did YOU prototype INSTEAD, brother?

TA: >oh, um.

TA: >nothing. i didn't manage to. i only prototyped something after i entered the medium.

TC: HM.

TC: that IS a BIT worrisome.

TC: YOU yourself TOLD me IT was A necessary STEP.

TA: >it will be fine. i hope.

TA: >we're all in and we're all safe.

TA: >sorry if i seem a li77le strange.

TA: >i feel like i'm losing it.

TC: brother, ITS important TO mourn.

TC: NORMALLY i WOULD say TAKE your TIME...

TC: but TIME is NEARLY upon US.

TC: TIME to BATTLE her.

TA: >the pink demon.

TA: >i... i'll do my best, kurloz.

TC: OUT of CURIOSITY.

TC: what DID you PROTOTYPE?

TA: >er...

TA: >it's a weird story?

TC: the BEST motherfuckin KIND lil DUDE.

TA: >w3ll, i was getting my apartment into the game. when right before i entered...

TA: >this. uh.

TA: >adult troll burst in.

TA: >she was covered in sheets and she looked pretty much feral.

TA: >but she made a beeline towards me and she came with me, into the medium.

TC: whoa.

TA: >after she entered, she leapt into my kernelsprite and just. floated off.

TC: FUCK dude.

TC: SO some OPPORTUNIST just GANKED your FUCKIN kernel?

TA: >seems l1ke.

TC: SHIT.

TC: well THATS unexpected BUT im SURE its JUST some RANDOM happenstance.

TA: >you're probably right. she kind of looked like... damara.

TC: SHIT. im SORRY bud. I know YOURE still BUSTED up ABOUT your DEAD ex.

TA: >it's okay. she was a great moirail, but... i've got a new one, now.

TC: HEH. damn STRAIGHT brother. <>

TA: > <>

TC: LETS not WORRY about RANDOM mummies THOUGH.

TC: weve GOT work TO do.

TC: DO you STILL have THE thing I gave TO you BEFORE we ENTERED?

TA: >yeah.

TC: hold ON to IT when YOU fall ASLEEP.

TA: >got it.

\--- thunderousCaterwaul ceased trolling tragicAeons \---

Everything is in place. You know just where to find the Pink Demon for your final fight. And you have an ace up your sleeve.

You look back at the tent. You wonder what players dream of after their dream self gets killed? Meulin looks happy enough when she sleeps. Next time, you'll ask her.

She still thinks Derse was just a dream. You wish you could have saved her back there... You've hurt her so much, but she still loves you. It's humbling. You only hope you can love her back just a fraction of the way she adores you.

You press your stitched lips to her forehead before settling in to sleep yourself.

Seriously? They're just sleeping? Be someone else. ==>

You are now someone else. Aranea, to be precise.

You're not excited about this. You're the last person to enter, and you don't know who the hell your server player is. It's making you nervous, pacing back and forth.

Kankri already entered the game, brought in by his moirail, and he took your garage with him! You even helped him along, operating the alchemiter while he tried to uncap the cruxtruder. Good thing, too, since he had the shortest time limit of anyone. Your phone beeps and your heart hammers. It must be your server. To your shock, the name on the screen is familiar.

\--- anatanoAkuyaku began trolling arcaneGnowledge \---

AA: これを早く終わらせましょう。

AG: See here! This isn't a very good prank.

AG: You can't imperson8 Damara Megido, it's not appropri8.

AA: 静かに。

AG: Hold on, let me fire up Grubble Translate...

AG: Look, whoever you are, I don't have time to argue. Just... If you're going to get me into the game, do it quickly.

AA: 私が言ったように。これを早く終わらせましょう。

AG: Fine.

Despite the dire circumstances, you need to get to the bottom of this. You message someone you know will understand what this means.

\--- arcaneGnowledge began trolling tragicAeons \---

AG: Mituna. Does anyone know Damara's login credentials to her trollian account?

TA: >uh.

TA: >no?

TA: >why? aren't you supposed to be entering the game, now?

AG: I am!

TA: >you are?? like. as we speak?

AG: Yes!

TA: >fuck. aranea, focus on the game, not me!

TA: >jesus, you're a m3ddler.

AG: I'm just saying. Someone must, 8ecause my server player has logged in as Damara. She's even speaking to me in East Alternian.

TA: >ugh.

TA: >that's such a shitty prank. they'd better not messag3 me.

TA: >1'm already up7he7 enough.

AG: I just thought I'd let you know! Perhaps get to the 8ottom of things.

AG: You don't think it could 8e really her, do you?

TA: >no.

TA: >i don't know how many times i have to re-live that day, but i saw her die, aranea. her body was disintegrated.

TA: >i know you bozos don't believe me, but it was the pink demon.

TA: >please don't bring this up again.

AG: Very well! I'm sure it's just some 8ad-taste prankster.

TA: >wh473v3r.

AG: ...Pardon?

TA: >sorry. "whatever."

\--- tragicAeons ceased perstering arcaneGnowledge \---

You almost forgot you were still talking to Damara! You switch tabs back.

AA: だれと話しているの？

AG: Speaking to? I was just talking to Mituna. He's not happy that you're impersonating his friend!

AA: 物事を放っておくことはできません。

AA: 彼と話をしないでください。

AG: I'll speak to whoever I please!

\--- anatanoAkuyaku blocked arcaneGnowledge \---

AG: Hey!!!!!!!!

Looks like you're on your own. Fine, then. There's something weird, and you'll get to the bottom of it!

In the meantime, you, as your twelve friends before you had, enter the medium. It's done. The chain is finished, your old teams having been abandoned.

You arrive in the Land of Glow and Libraries, and decide to tell Meenah the good news. After all- You're both d8ing again!

You sigh wistfully, watching the sky above you.

\--- arcaneGnowledge began pestering cruelCondescension \---

AG: Meenah! I'm in the game. We're safe. All twelve of us made it!

AG: My land is so wonderful! Shelves of 8ooks, as far as the eye can see.

AG: ...

AG: Meenah?

CC: what

AG: Aren't you happy I'm in?

CC: ya

AG: ...

AG: I know! You must 8e distracted 8y your land! I 8et yours is a8solutely wonderous!

CC: its p cool 

CC: sorry i had to give a mummy directions 

AG: A... Mummy?

AG: Is your land some kind of desert where the undead roam?

CC: nah it was like

CC: a mummy ghost

CC: unrelated to my land

AG: ...I see.

AG: Well, mummies notwithstanding! We're all here. I suppose we ought to do our 8est to conquer this game.

CC: yyyuup

AG: Are you alright? You seem... Distant.

CC: psh

CC: nah

AG: Oh. Okay! I'm sure it's all just in my head. I should trust you!

CC: sure

CC: look i gotta go

AG: I'm sure! The denizens of your land are no dou8t assailing you.

CC: not reely

CC: bye

\--- cruelCondescension ceased trolling arcaneGnowledge \---

AG: That's okay! I'll just catch up with Spidermomsprite.

SPIDERMOMSPRITE: I think your girlfriend h8s you.

ARANEA: MOM! >::::(

SPIDERMOMSPRITE: Just callin' it like I see it, toots.

Be someone else. ==>

You are someone else. That someone being me. But also, I'm me.

Professor Scratch.

Looks like things went to plan. The twelve saviors are in the game, as am I. Ruling over Derse.

Things are progressing smoothly. Sadly, one of the kernelsprites was unable to be prototyped. Under normal circumstances this would spell disaster, as the Black Queen wouldn't know to start the reckoning.

But, simply put. I'm in charge, now.

This is it. The culmination of eons of planning. I'm finally here, in the game. In a place where even I cannot see the future. I'm learning so much. Flying blind. It is impossibly exciting, being without my omnipotence, but it is all so I can see what the game has to offer.

At long last I can fill the final void in my infinite sight.

I will activate the reckoning when and only when my pupils are ready, and they will win this game. No need for the Scratch. No need for anything! Just me. Just the saviors. Everything will be perfect.

There is only one loose end to tie up. The Mummy seems to have made it into the session, and she's making a beeline for Damara.

I say let her. There's no stopping this now. Let that decrepit bag of bones do whatever she damn well pleases. 

I'm sure you share in my triumph, dear reader. Thank you for bearing with me for this long. It looks like now, we will both be able to watch my success unfurl. No one can oppose me.

No mummies. No shitty mimes. No teens with psiionics. No men from the moon.

I am eternal.

The Scratch will never come to pass!

But it's not quite over yet, dear readers. While I cannot stop the Mummy, I predict I will have to do some damage control.

A pity. I thought all my loose ends would have been tied up by the time the game began.

I'm sure you can stay with me for one chapter more, though, right, dear reader?

I'll see you there.


	17. INTERMISSION: Goodbye, Moonman.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Transmission.

Hey. It's me. Moonman.

Listen, it's been real. I thwarted plans. I told you about ancestors. I feel like we got a real bond going, you and I, reader.

But my planet's kind of in shambles right now, it's getting hit by meteors as we speak. And... Well. That kind of means it's curtains for your old buddy pre-scratch Karkat.

So I figure, while Armageddon is raining down... I can tell you the tale of the last Ancestor.

Me.

Meenah Piexes wasn't the first wiggler that the Grand-Matron dragged to the moon, you see.

I was the first.

Back when I was first born, ages ago, the Grand-Matron took a liking to me. She kept me for herself and didn't want me to be culled by the empress. She knew I'd just be some highblood's shitty servant, all because of my candy-red blood. So she sought refuge for me, on the moon. The Empress never missed one stray wiggler.

The Grand-Matron turned me over to Professor Scratch to raise me right.

And for a while, it was fine. Everything went well.

Until I started seeing visions.

I saw visions of a future beyond that which Scratch could see, and when I asked about them, she just brushed me off.

After all, someone omnipotent doesn't want to be told they don't have all the facts. Scratch always was self-conscious about how she wasn't COMPLETELY omnipotent, even now.

Every night, I dreamed of him. Karkat. A troll raised on a different world, a world I had to bring into being. I saw visions of a world with a bright blue sky, of sgrub, of my alternate future...

I knew it was my mission, a mission etched in my Blood, to bring it into being.

Scratch didn't like that.

She locked me in the manor, and I was only able to escape after I became an adult. I burned swaths of the jungle and they saw it on Alternia.

The Piilot and his team came down to rescue me, eventually. I was out of Scratch's clutches.

From there, I just had to make sure the world would be ready for the Twelve Saviors. I mingled with their ancestors and spoke prophecy to them, getting everything set up and ready.

I thought my work would be done after that. But it wasn't.

I should have died decades ago, with the rest of the ancestors, but I couldn't. The Empress was always interested in my powers.

She mistook them as the power to see the future, so she extended my life so I could tell her things. She plucked me from the care of Vriska and put me in her court. 

A mutantblood, culled by the Empress herself.

Eventually, she had me put away in a tower in her palace. I wasn't very... Cooperative? I kind of have a problem with authority, if you haven't already picked that little nugget up.

Anyway, I'm still in that tower. Typing away on this computer.

Typing to you.

For I have yet to finish my final mission, dear reader.

Imparting this tale on to you.

But this tower isn't long for the world. I can feel it shaking beneath me. My work is almost finished. Like Scratch said... One chapter more.

Then she and I can both die.

It's been nice to spend this time with you. I hope you enjoyed my story. It's far from over, but my account ends soon- Whoever picks up my tale for me, I appreciate it. I won't be gone long, after all, you'll see me again with a different face.

GOODBYE.

Pictured: The Moonman on Beforus Past, busking.

Text: "I am from the moon. Give me money."


	18. Professor Scratch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A story ends.
> 
> TW: Eye strain.
> 
> A non-eye strain version is coming soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A non-eye strain version is coming soon.

Sweeps in the past, but not many...

Your name is DAMARA MEGIDO, and you live a charmed life.

You live in East Beforus on a commune of other POWERFUL PSYCHICS, learning to hone your ABILITIES. Your abilities are PARTICULARLY POWERFUL, and while you're pleased with this, you don't let it GET TO YOUR HEAD. Despite being in the company of your castemates, you feel a MALAISE upon your life that you can't pinpoint, but that feeling always GOES AWAY when you talk to your MOIRAIL.

Today is a special day for you, as you are leaving the commune to VISIT said moirail, and you can't wait to see him! The journey is somewhat arduous, but you're sure it'll be worth it.

In fact, the SEA-SCUTTLEBUGGY is pulling into the dock just now!

You speak in an east alternian dialect and your online handle is anatanoAkuyaku.

What will you do?

Greet moirail! ==>

As much as you want to greet Mituna, you cannot, for Mituna is nowhere to be seen. You have a single bag with you, a modest drawstring affair that contains your clothes and not much else. You bite your lip. He didn't abandon you, did he? You turn to a dock attendant and draw upon your limited knowledge of West Beforan.

DAMARA: Y... Yellowblood?

The attendant blinks at you, and speaks in broken Eastern. You sigh in relief.

Author's note: Speech in [brackets] is translated.

ATTENDANT: [You are looking for yellowblood?]

DAMARA: [Yes!]

ATTENDANT: [There was one here earlier looking for rustblood. But he-]

The attendant searches for the word. His Eastern isn't good, but you appreciate the effort.

ATTENDANT: [...Fell down?]

You blink.

DAMARA: [Fainted?]

ATTENDANT: [Yes! Fainted. From excitement.]

The attendant points you towards a first-aid station. Sure enough, just like the attendant said, Mituna is there. Your bloodpusher leaps in your chest. He's laid out on a nurse's cot, a surly tealblood frowning down at him.

DAMARA: [Tuna!]

MITUNA: >[holy shit. mara. haha- shoot, i'm sorry you had to see this. i got so excited when i saw your ship pull in that i kind of lost my cool.]

The tealblood rolls his eyes and wanders off. Looks like Mituna is okay and the both of you have some privacy.

DAMARA: [It's wonderful to meet you at last!]

DAMARA: [Even if you are in pain.]

MITUNA: >[i'm okay! really.]

To prove his point, he stands up. You help him to your feet, and just the light touch of supporting his weight is enough to give you comfort. It appears he feels the same way, as the support turns into a hug. His helmeted head bonks yours awkwardly, but you don't care.

MITUNA: >[i know it's our first time meeting, but...]

MITUNA: >[i missed you.]

Mituna's Eastern is good. He has an accent that makes you chuckle, but he learned it for you. You've never met someone who cared so much.

DAMARA: [I missed you too.]

MITUNA: >[oh yeah. your auntie was looking for you.]

DAMARA: [An-ti?]

DAMARA: [What does that mean?]

MITUNA: >[i don't know. some kind of puppet was walking around asking about you. it's probably some kind of weird robot toy.]

You laugh.

DAMARA: [A puppet was looking for me?]

You slug Mituna on the arm. He's a spindly guy and you're surprisingly strong for a psychic, so in response, he squawks like a beaked mimicbeast. He laughs, too, offering a slug in return. It's much weaker, but you patronize him with an "ow" of your own.

MITUNA: >[yeah! a puppet. do you have any other friends from west beforus?]

DAMARA: [It could be Horuss. I don't know him well, but he's a friend of a friend.]

Mituna shrugs.

MITUNA: >[well either way- you didn't come to west beforus to see puppets. c'mon, the walk back to my hive is long.]

MITUNA: >[oh, and don't mind that my hive is kind of bare. i'm shipping out to pilot school soon.]

You hold his hand tentatively, swinging it lazily. It's strange being in a place where no one speaks your language, getting looks from every angle, but it's better now that Mituna is here. You both make your way out of the docks and towards a dirt path that leads into the woods.

The silence between you both is comfortable as you make tracks. Mituna was right, the route is long, but the woods are sparse and the pink moon shines above. The road is dusty, not meant for scuttlebuggies, but that doesn't stop the occasional motorist from trundling through anyway. Each time they do, you and Mituna step off the dirt path to let them pass.

DAMARA: [Was that the puppet you were talking about?]

You ask, looking back on the dirt trail. Sure enough, a petite figure is following you both, waving a hand as if to hail you.

MITUNA: >[hey, yeah. it is! let's go see what it wants.]

Mituna stops and doubles back. Soon enough, the puppet and the two of you meet. The puppet is wearing a lab coat and in lieu of a head, it has an 8-ball. Mituna seems put off, prodding its felt stomach.

MITUNA: >[this thing could talk before, it was weird.]

To both of your surprise, the puppet speaks. Its East Alternian is flawless.

SCRATCH: [Good morning to the both of you.]

SCRATCH: [I won't be long, I have a simple errand to run.]

SCRATCH: [Do excuse my frantic nature. I was never a good host.]

You exchange a look with Mituna. You think this thing is hilarious, but Mituna is stepping back, hand gripping yours more tightly.

SCRATCH: [Captor-san. Please step back.]

Mituna mouths a word you can't hear as the pupet draws something from its coat-pocket. You blink. You suddenly feel weightless as the world fades to black.

===

When your eyes open, you're laying on a respiteslab in an unfamiliar room. You blink again, looking at your hands. Are you... Dead?

Your hands begin to shake. You swallow. That puppet shot you with something. You're sure of it. Mituna looked absolutely distraught, broken up, but... You didn't get a good look at him before you lost consciousness.

DAMARA: [Hello?]

You open the door to your mysterious purple room, looking around. The place seems empty. You look down at yourself, taking stock of the purple pajamas that you're now wearing. Does everyone get purple pajamas in the afterlife?

Returning to your room, you look out a window. Beneath you is a purple city, topped with spires and steeples, people milling about the streets far far below. Looks like you're in a tower. Six identical towers dot the landscape of the dark purple planet.

???: pst. hey. kid.

There's a voice behind you. You jump, and reflexively, you grab something nearby, hurling it with your psychic power at him. The bedside table takes flight and strikes the interloper in the stomach. He "oofs" and falls over.

???: heh. i like your style, squirt. but i'm a pal, not an enemy.

You... Don't understand what this strange man is saying. You cock your head.

DAMARA: [Do you speak Eastern?]

The man cocks his head, dusting off his jacket of table-debris.

???: yeah, so i'm detectin' a language barrier here. not a huge fan. i'm just gonna give ya what i'm s'posed to 'n go.

???: the names dd.

DAMARA: Dee... Dee?

DD: that's the ticket, squirt.

DD: now just take this.

dd drops a gun to the floor, kicking it over to you. You recoil from it. You never liked guns, and considering you've just been shot with one, you're not a fan in particular.

DD: don't worry. can't hurt'cha. it's a teleporter. TEL-E-PORT-ER.

Servant scratches his head dubiously, but you understood that word.

DAMARA: Ah- Teleport. Yes!

You don't know what you're supposed to do with it, but SS demonstrates. He puts his fingers to his head in the shape of a gun.

DD: ya just- shoot yourself if you want to go somewhere.

DD: the black queen made me make this delivery, so-

You mimick his action, taking the transportalizer in-hand.

DD: wait, no not right n-!

ZAP.

dd isn't able to finish his sentence. You're suddenly in the forest. A different forest, but one clearly on Beforus. You look around, suddenly feeling very alone and frightened. You're still wearing your purple pajamas and they are more breezy than the outfits you're used to. You clutch the teleporter gun tightly and pull the trigger again. It clicks, inert.

DAMARA: Fuck!

That's one Western word you know. Looks like the teleporter didn't survive the trip. You crushed it with your knee when you teleported back to the planet.

As time went on, you slowly pieced together what happened. Your suspicions were correct. You HAD been killed, according to Mituna. Evaporated in an accident involving someone called the Pink Demon.

You couldn't face him, though. Mituna was too... Heartbroken, and for as irrational as you know it is, you can't come clean. You know it's your fault.

Instead, you make contact with a friendly fairy-boy named Rufioh and make your new life in the woods with his lost weeaboos.

The rest is history.

===

Years in the present... Presently.

Looks like the cat's out of the bag. A meddler like Aranea is sure to blab the fact that you're still alive back to Tuna. He's bound to find out eventually... It doesn't matter, though. It's been so long since you've thought of him. So long since you were able to care, and the final nail in that coffin was reading Rufioh's last texts to you.

You don't even feel heartbroken or betrayed. You don't bother responding. You just feel hollow.

\--- cruelCondescension began trolling anatanoAkuyaku \---

CC: haha shit

CC: you still alive??

CC: tuna said you bit it big time but here you are

AA: Eat dick, Piexes.

CC: damn

CC: snarky as ever

CC: water-ever i didnt come to gloat

CC: even though im positive thatll come later

CC: on account of you n rufiohs lil breakup

AA: Who told you??

CC: omg come on who do you think

AA: Aranea.

CC: yuuuuuup

AA: How the fuck did she know?

CC: who knows shes such a gossip

CC: eugh...

CC: hey jokes aside dead gill

CC: your western is p good

AA: Eat shit.

AA: Tell me what you want then leave.

CC: fine

CC: its gonna sound fuckin stupid but

CC: theres a mummy lookin for u

CC: like in the medium with us

CC: so watch out ig

\--- cruelCondescension ceased trolling anatanoAkuyaku \---

You grit your teeth. You can't believe you used to consider her pitch romance material. Now her words just make you sick. Still- She's not a liar. You wonder what the fuck she meant by "there's a mummy looking for you."

Surrounding you is the Land of Decay and Melody, an appropriately grim place for your mood. All around you are unlit lightbulbs strung from telephone poles. You're sure that they have something to do with some kind of quest, but you don't really have time to deal with any quest right now.

Because you've just decided this game sucks.

Everyone in it sucks. Meenah, the inconsiderate bitch. Aranea, the snooping meddler. Horuss, the matesprit stealer. Rufioh, the cad. The only decent one was Mituna, and god knows where he was or how betrayed he now felt about all this.

And- Speak of the devil. Your palmhusk vibrates.

\--- tragicAeons began trolling anatanoAkuyaku \---

TA: >who3ver this is piloting damara's phone.

TA: >stop it.

TA: >it's not funny. you're not funny.

TA: >impersonating dead people isn't funny.

TA: >is that you, hansom??

AA: [Mituna, it's me.]

TA: >stop it.

AA: [I'm sorry.]

TA: >i saw you die.

TA: >i saw h3r d1e.

AA: [I did die. I evaporated, just like you said. It was the Pink Demon.]

TA: >[so... what? you got better??]

AA: [No. I woke up. On derse. Someone gave me a teleport gun and I ended up back on Beforus.]

TA: >[you had an extra fucking life?]

TA: >[that's complete bullshit. that's not possible. derse is a dream world! kurloz goes there to dream!!!]

AA: [It's real. Derse is here, in the medium.]

AA: [Mituna, please. Don't be angry with me.]

TA: >[i didn't hear from you in... in sweeps! damara, i went on thinking you were dead for years!]

You don't know what to say to Mituna. This isn't how you pictured this reunion. The feelings that you thought had hollowed you out come creeping back with a vengeance, gripping your heart icily. Your hands shake. You don't know what you're typing.

TA: >[why didn't you... tell me?]

AA: [Because you couldn't save me.]

AA: [You make me sick. You make me want to puke. You little coward.]

TA: >[wait, damara. wait. what? damara.]

AA: [You're pathetic. You couldn't even stop a puppet from killing me. Idiot. Idiot!]

AA: [I can't believe I was moirails with a leech like you. Pathetic idiot!]

You sigh, your breath rattling. Tears sting your eyes as you type, tripping over your own words. The hollow feeling creeps back and you feel sweet relief. Killing the last thing you ever cared about.

Maybe the only thing.

AA: [I didn't want to see you ever again after you failed me.]

\--- anatanoAkuyaku blocked tragicAeons \---

You crush your palmhusk with your psychic abilities. Looks like you have nothing, now.

ARADIA: hiya! 0u0

You nearly jump out of your skin. Is that a fucking mummy?!

Be Mituna. ==>

You are now Mituna. Presently, you're with Kurloz on Derse, in the very dream world you feebly tried to discount. Kurloz has hatched a plan to dispatch the Pink Demon, one that now seems so far away that you can barely think. Kurloz silently taps you on the shoulder. He signs at you- You can't understand sign language well, yet, but you understand him.

KURLOZ: [Hurry up.]

MITUNA: >gh. SORRY. sorry. sorry. sorry.

You mutter the word over and over, finding yourself unable to stop. You swallow thickly.

KURLOZ: [Be calm.]

You nod, but it's a little to emphatic. Kurloz places a hand on your shoulder and you take a deep breath. You have a new moirail now, and an important mission. Damara can wait.

The plan is simple. Due to some kind of glitch in the works, Kurloz found out that you in fact have two dream selves. Neither of them have ever awoken, but that can change, with the help of Porrim. Porrim has a unique ability to awaken dreamers, which will be the linchpin of the plan you've come up with.

Basically, using Kurloz's abilities and your massive psiionics, you'll corner the Pink Demon between the both of you and unleash fury. Kurloz's dreamself still has working vocal chords with which to use the Last Honk and you have your own psionics as well as the help of one of your dream selves. The power of the three of you has to be enough to beat the Demon.

Plus, Kurloz knows right where she is. The Black Queen's castle. She hasn't moved since Kurloz and Meenah's last assault, almost as if she's inviting the challenge.

MITUNA: >can't this v3rs1on of you thpeak?

MITUNA: >i mean, speak?

Kurloz nods, but makes the zipper-lips hand motion. You nod.

MITUNA: >i'm sorry. 1 shouldn't ask you to br8k your vow of silence.

You're glad Kurloz understands, smiling.

You're both waiting for Porrim to arrive. The both of you made it to Derse- His dreamer body and your real body, as well as your dream-body. It's a little strange, sitting next to a clone of yourself, especially one without your helmet. You'd comment on how frizzy your hair is to Kurloz, but your mind can't get off of Damara's words. Even Kurloz's companionship isn't enough.

You can feel that feeling. The same feeling of when you killed your lusus. You're getting unhinged again, and when you do it's dangerous.

Luckily for you, Porrim arrives.

PORRIM: Hello+, bo+ys.

PORRIM: Yo+u're lucky I came. These dream selves aren't just puppets to+ be discarded. I'm dubio+us as to+ yo+ur mo+tivatio+ns, but I trust yo+u bo+th, if o+nly tenuo+usly.

Instead of signing, Kurloz flips Porrim off.

Porrim, unperturbed, touches her hands to your dream-self's face. As soon as she touches it, you feel odd- Fuzzy. Your psionics crackle and Porrim hesitates.

PORRIM: Mituna, are yo+u o+kay?

MITUNA: >n3v3r b3773r.

PORRIM: ...Right.

With trepidation, Porrim finishes.

PORRIM: It will take a mo+ment, and yo+u might no+t be able to+ co+ntro+l bo+th selves at o+nce, but... Yo+u sho+uld awaken to+ yo+ur dreamself so+o+n, Mituna. Whatever yo+u two+ are do+ing... I just ho+pe it's wo+rth it.

You and Kurloz nod solemnly as she flies away. Dream-You stirs, mumbling something, like he's having a bad dream.

To be fair... You feel like you're having a bad dream.

You stagger, clutching your helmet. Sparks fly from it, and Kurloz retracts his hand from your shoulder, looking nervously at you. He swallows, signing before hefting your duplicate over his shoulder.

KURLOZ: [Let's go.]

===

Before, Mituna wondered if I was awaiting their arrival because I was mocking them.

To be clear, I am.

I think I deserve some amount of smugness. After all, they think they can eliminate me, which, frankly, is laughable.

It is exciting, though. In the Medium, I am not omnipotent, so I do not know how this fight will shake out, other than its inevitable winner. Me.

They are coming. This much I can still intuit. They'll be here in minutes.

While we wait, dear reader, I'd like to say thank you. For trusting me. For not caving into the nasty rhetoric of the Moonman and sticking with me to the end.

I put a lot of work into this narrative and-

Oh!

My apologies. I'll have to save my appreciation for after the fight.

Unlike Meenah's garish entrance, Kurloz's next entrance is more measured than before. The door to my throne room opens wide, and, standing in it, are two pathetic boys and a spare corpse-to-be. Laughable.

SCRATCH: Good evening, gentlemen.

SCRATCH: Or... Is it evening? I can hardly tell on this featureless planetoid.

SCRATCH: Make yourselves at home. I'm afraid the furniture is sparse.

SCRATCH: I was never a good host. I don't see why I should start.

As is expected, Kurloz doesn't speak, pacing towards me in a manner I expect he imagines is menacing.

SCRATCH: Careful now, boy.

SCRATCH: Wouldn't want to blow out another set of vocal chords.

SCRATCH: Unless you're trying to deafen a person in each of your quadrants.

Kurloz doesn't speak, but his eye twitches. Poor mortals are so susceptible to mocking. It truly is their downfall.

MITUNA: >p-p1nk...

If I had eyebrows I would raise them. Mituna collapses onto the floor, clutching his head.

SCRATCH: Kurloz, dear, your partner in crime and his doppleganger are both in no state to fight.

SCRATCH: His old moirail officially broke things off with him, I hear.

SCRATCH: Why don't you console him? Make a nice horn pile and run along while I operate the strings.

Kurloz doesn't indulge my offer of mercy, but he does look back at the Mitunas hesitantly. I call to Mituna across the hall.

SCRATCH: Tuna, dear, please talk some sense into your mute friend, here. I'm no demon!

SCRATCH: Are you still mad about that affair in the woods?

If I had lips I'd smirk. Rubbing it in is ever so sweet.

SCRATCH: Is the memory still etched in your helmeted head? You little fool.

Mituna collapses onto the ground.

SCRATCH: Are you still angry you couldn't save her?

I chuckle, readying my fingers to

MITUNA: 

Oh, shit.

Mituna sort of-

Okay. Shit. Fuck. This wasn't how this was supposed to-

Haha. Dear reader. Don't mind me, I'm-

MITUNA: 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Fuck.

KURLOZ: 

Scratch's words are drowned out, both in the narrative and in the hall. The duo is staggeringly effective, Kurloz's honk cracking the walls while Sollux's eye beams liquefy the wall behind Scratch. Scratch's puppet body stands no chance, failing to outrun the volley.

Her 8-ball cracks in the line of fire.

Before any blue liquid hits the floor... It evaporates.

Kurloz raises his voice in his final words, breaking his vow, roaring over the din of Mituna's eye-beams that are still pouring from his face.

KURLOZ: MITUNA-

KURLOZ: WE DID IT, MITUNA, WE-

MITUNA: 

Mituna... Doesn't stop. In fact, his dream-self awakens and joins the merciless volley. Kurloz staggers back, eyes wide, face downcast.

Two Mitunas shriek into the now-empty hall, their eye-beams sizzling too hot, their eyes burning bright and hard, too hard, too much, too... Mituna.

Mituna's helmet cracks and his jaw hangs open as he screams and screams, energy pouring out of his eye sockets. Mituna swings and vaporizes his dream self, searing him effortlessly in half, the pain of which makes Mituna howl even louder. Kurloz has no recourse, he scrambles to his feet and flies out the door, out of the castle, looking back as he leaves, watching the psionic's eye-beams raze the entire place, the ceiling collapsing on the mad yellowblood.

All Kurloz can do is stare in shock. By now he assumed he and Mituna would be celebrating the death of their long-time foe, not... This. Kurloz turns his back on the crumbling palace, covering his mouth.

It's over. 

===

You are now Meenah.

You're finally in the game at long last, finally free of your responsibilities! Life is great.

Except one little niggle.

\--- arcaneGnowledge began trolling cruelCondescension ---

AG: Meenah! Did you hear the news?

CC: that dams is alive and tuna is busted up aboat it

CC: or that tuna and kurloz are goin to krill auntie

AG: Phoey. Spoil my fun, why don't you?

CC: i guess

AG: Cheer up! You've 8een down since we got here, Meenah! I haven't even 8een a8le to see you yet.

CC: ya well

CC: serk we gotta talk

AG: ...

AG: Are you f8cking kidding me? Meenah. You're NOT a8oat to do this.

CC: pft

CC: aboat

CC: but nah you havent even let me finish jeez

AG: Oh! Sorry. For a minute I thought you were 8reaking up with me.

CC: oh no i 100% am

CC: oops

AG: Ha. Funny joke, Meenah! Should I make a 8ig reaction so you can post it on chittr?

CC: nah

CC: idc what u do

AG: You... You don't?

CC: no

CC: ima be honest serk u n me

CC: we are tight af

CC: and we had a good run

CC: i think we could make hella friends but like

CC: i dont think youre emotionally ready for that shit

CC: you just want my quads

CC: and im not gonna lie i like

CC: i straight up dont like bein in quads dog

CC: i wish there was a word for "never wanted 2 b in a relationship seriously eva"

AG: ...Asexual?

CC: ew no

CC: sounds like a fuckin sti im not callin myself that shit

AG: Ugh.

CC: anywave...

CC: aranea im serious

CC: get at me when youre lookin for a pal but

CC: this is curtains

CC: i cant b with you

CC: or anyone i dont think

AG: I...

AG: Meenah, I understand.

AG: Frankly... I kind of knew this was coming. I didn't want to admit it to myself, 8ut, Meenah... All I want is for you to 8e happy! I don't think I can let go of my feelings yet, 8ut. I'll give you some space. ::::)

CC: ...

AG: What?

CC: nofin just

CC: i half expected another shoe to drop cuz like

CC: thats kinda what i needed to hear

CC: um

CC: thanks serk

CC: sorry for jerkin you around

AG: Heh. You can make it up to me later.

\--- arcaneGnowledge ceased trolling cruelCondescension ---

That went. Well.

You were expecting pain and Serket-suffering, but Aranea understood you. So understanding, so calm, so dreamy, so-

Aw, shit.

You decide to take your mind off your suddenly-renewed Aranea-crush by messaging someone you know is a solid rock.

\--- cruelCondescension began trolling tragicAeons \---

CC: yo tuna

CC: jaw with me

CC: you done w your mission vs the pink demon yet

CC: sorry btw for never believin you aboat that shit

CC: like seriously shes bad news

CC: heh guess im on an apologizin kick today

CC: just apologized to aranea for all her shit too

CC: ...

CC: yo tuna

CC: you there bud

TA: H0W 7H3 FUCK D1D Y0U M4K3 Y0UR W0RD5 P1NK?!!?!

CC: uh

TA: FUCK!!! H0LY 7HH17! 1 W4N7 70 M4K3 MY W0RD5 P1NK! MY W0RD5 H4V3 4LW4Y5 833N Y3LL0W. Y3LL0W!!!!!!! FUCK!

CC: dude tuna

CC: you okay?

TA: WH3R3 7H3 FUCK 15 7H3 P1NK W0RD5 8U770N 0N 7H15 P13C3 0F 5H17 D3V1C3? FUCK! 7H17H 5UCK5. M33N4H 73LL M3 480U7 Y0UR P1NK W00000000000RD5!!!!! LKM4JFKKL7HDJLFD

CC: holy shit

\--- tragicAeons is offline ---

CC: uh

Well that was odd. You're sure it's nothing. Not like that typing style of his will catch on.

Other than all... That. Life is pretty good. You feel great about your prospects for this game.

Be Damara. ==>

You are now Damara. You feel like shit about your prospects for this game. For starters, outside of all the interpersonal bullshit that resulted from your death, there's a mummy staring at you with a shit-eating grin.

ARADIA: hey! my name is aradia. pleased t0 meet y0u! i believe y0u're my descendant. damara, right? 0u0

She's speaking Western. You're not sure what "ancestor" means.

DAMARA: [Do you speak Eastern?]

Aradia nods enthusiastically.

ARADIA: [sure do!]

DAMARA: [What was that word you said?] Descendant?

ARADIA: [yep! it means i'm your ancestor.]

DAMARA: [I hate to be rude, but. I don't really put much stock in such things. Please leave me alone.]

ARADIA: [okay! sure thing.]

ARADIA: [i'm dying pretty soon anyway, so you won't have to deal with me for long.]

ARADIA: [but before i go...]

ARADIA: [aren't you tired?]

DAMARA: [...]

DAMARA: [Tired?]

ARADIA: [aren't you tired of being nice?]

ARADIA: [don't you just want to go apeshit?]

You gawk at this eerily cheerful woman. You look her up and down. She's covered in bandages, and her whole body looks emaciated from malnourishment. Her knees weakly wobble, one horn is cracked off, leaving a crater in the side of her head. To even the balance, her head cocks to one side. But... She's right. You ARE tired of being nice.

DAMARA: [I'm listening.]

ARADIA: [well let me tell you... about the scratch.]

===

And that's it.

That's the whole shebang. The story of Beforus, beginning to end.

As you probably know, the story continues from there. These kids have to activate the scratch after all, even though they took care of the Professor who took its name.

But this story is over. Like I said, the meteors are coming down now, and this is the last thing you'll hear from me.

Whoever picks up the tale after me, well... Good luck.

And godspeed.

I'll see you on Alternia, fuckass.

MOONMAN OUT.

===

BEFORUS END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over. The sequel fic about the Beforus kids in the game, "After Before Us," will be coming soon, but for now... I just wrote a novel's worth of words about imaginary aliens. I'm going to rest.
> 
> -Funk


End file.
